ang totoong kakaiba
by jaceyrose18
Summary: basahin mo na lang..
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

Disclaimer – BTVS belongs to Joss Whedon, Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke. I own nothing. This story is for entertainment purposes only.

Summery – Buffy and Faith share a prophetic slayer dream about an upcoming Big Bad, so Faith brings in reinforcements in the form of the Winchester brothers. But soon the fight isn't the only thing that Buffy and Dean are lusting for. Only problem is, Dean's already taken...by Faith.

AN – Starts Post Chosen for BTVS, and Season 1 for Supernatural – after Bloody Mary but before Skin

Prologue

The forest was burning.

Flames soared above them, consuming the thick trees and eating up the ground, destroying everything in its path quicker than it took to take a breath. The dark, midnight sky could no longer be seen through the orange blaze and black smoke, and the burning heat was long past being unbearable.

No one could get in.

No one could get out.

But at the very center of the forest lay a small, temporary relief. He wasn't sure whether this was because of the demon's mojo, or if the witch was somehow helping them from the outside, but he knew that the circle of ground unaffected by flames wouldn't last for long. Even now, the heat was beginning to seep through. Sweat trickled down his forehead, his t-shirt stuck to his shaking body, and the hand in which he held his gun was slippery. He needed to think. Fast. But how could he think when his world was crashing down around him? When his heart was shattering into tiny pieces? When everything he had worked so hard to protect, everything he loved, was quickly slipping away?

Without lowering his gun or moving his head, he looked to his his left. His brother, barely conscious, was trying and failing to crawl to his knees. But he was too weak. The many injuries he had sustained were holding him down, the blood he had lost making his body frail.

And to his right, the second strongest girl he knew was laying on her front, her face pressed into the dirt and leaves, her dark hair surrounding her head on the ground around her. He wasn't even sure if she was alive.

"Do it!"

He looked up sharply, eyes locking with the woman standing in front of him, ten feet away. Too far. Always too far.

"Do it!" she pleaded, tears falling from her eyes. "Please! You have to do it!"

"I can't!" he yelled back, his voice hoarse.

"You have to! I can't...I can't hold back for much longer!"

"No! I'll fix you! I will, I promise. We just need to-"

"I'm not strong enough!"

"You are! You're stronger than anyone I've ever met!"

The roaring flames had become so loud that he had to scream. It teared up his throat but he didn't care. Didn't even notice.

"Please!" she begged. "I don't wanna hurt them anymore." Her eyes, filled with so much pain, mirrored his own perfectly as she glanced to her left and right before looking back at him. "You have to do it. Now!"

"How can I?" he pleaded, tears falling freely from his eyes. "I can't! I...I love you, damn it! God, I love you!"

"They'll die if you don't!" she cried. "All of them. Oh God, please! I can't...don't let me kill them. Please! You have to. Please!"

Never, not in all the time he'd know her, had he heard her beg. Not for anything. And now, to hear her pleading, begging...for this? It ripped him apart inside. But not nearly as much as the sound of the gun in his hand clicking as he cocked the trigger.

"I'm sorry," he choked out. "I'm so sorry."

And with an anguished sob, Dean pulled the trigger and, aiming straight at Buffy's heart, he shot.


	2. Chapter 2

A Day In The Life

Disclaimer – Don't own anything you might recognize. They all belong to their respective owners.

A Day In The Life

6 MONTHS EARLIER...

The early morning sunlight shined lazily through a small gap in the thin bedroom curtains, casting a golden glow over the just waking body of Buffy Summers.

She moaned in satisfaction as she reached her arms above her head, stretching out all the muscles that had been given one hell of a workout the night before.

She stilled, frowning as she remembered the many vamps she had dusted as she had patrolled the previous night. Not that she was complaining about the vamp killing, cause hey, funzies! But she had been living in Cleveland for a year and a half now, and in all that time she'd never seen so many blood sucking baddies come out to play in one night.

She made a mental note to call Giles later in the morning, before snuggling back down in her duvet, grinning in pleasure as she debated about what to do on her rare day off. She'd been working seven day weeks since they set up the slayer training school six months before, and much as she loved her friends, they didn't seem to realize that sometimes she needed the occasional day off. She tried to ignore the image of Willow's face that sprung to mind. The raised eyebrows as the expression on the witch's face clearly stating that she thought Buffy was shirking her responsibilities. But for once, Buffy hadn't backed down.

There was a small knock on her bedroom door before it was flung open and Andrew was bouncing in, uninvited.

If it had been anyone else, Buffy might have punched them right there, right then. Straight in the face for invading her privacy. But somehow, in the two years since the destruction of Sunnydale, and and in that two years the year and a half she had been sharing an apartment with him and Faith, she had become...fond of the little blonde geek. God knows how it happened, but it had. And by now she was more than used to his annoying tendencies, like failing to wait for permission to enter someones bedroom. It was, in fact, the reason that Buffy had had to start wearing pajamas to bed when she went to sleep.

"Morning sunshine!" he chirped, flopping down on her bed and holding their cordless phone out towards her. "Phone for you."

Grumbling, she sat up, sparing a short glance towards the alarm that sat on the table next to her bed before taking the phone.

"Whoever this is better have a damn good reason for calling me at quarter to seven in the morning," she said, her voice terse as she spoke down the phone.

"It's me."

Buffy silently groaned, wondering what it was that she had done so wrong in her life that Kennedy should be thrust into it on a daily basis.

"What's up, Kennedy?" she asked with a sigh.

"Willow asked me to call you," the younger slayer replied in a clipped voice. "Vi ended up having to go out further South than originally planned to take out the Henznar demon. She just called to say she won't be able to make it back in time to take her class. You'll have to do it."

Just like that. No apology. Nothing. Just the demand of her presence and the expectations that she'd just show up. Even though they knew, they knew how much she'd needed some time off. How hard she'd been working. How exhausted she was.

Too exhausted to bother to fight them, that was for sure.

And she knew that there were plenty of other of the more advanced slayers who could teach the class. But still, she was the one they called.

She sighed loudly and dropped back onto her pillows. "Sure, Kennedy. I'll be there."

"I'm making eggs," Andrew announced as she entered the kitchen some time later, showered and dressed and ready to teach. "You want eggs?"

"Ooh, yummy," she chirped, sitting her self down on a stool and watching him flit about the kitchen in his red apron.

"It's so unfair that you have to work today," he declared with a frown. "If I was still evil I'd totally summon a demon on their asses. But I'm not," he added, almost as an afterthought. "Evil, that is. So there will be no summoning. Or conjuring."

"I think it might go against the whole watcherness thing." Buffy nodded.

"Alas, I'm not a watcher yet." He heaved a loud sigh. "I keep failing the written."

"That's because you spend the night before every test playing Star Wars on your X-Box with Xander instead of revising."

"True, true."

He deposited her eggs on a plate in front of her and she thanked him before digging in.

"Did Faith call last night?" Buffy asked, mid way through her breakfast.

Andrew shook his head and Buffy tutted.

Though Buffy tended to stick to Cleveland - teaching at the school and patrolling the Cleveland graveyards - Faith had become more restless. She liked to be on the road, and so the newly formed council had started to send her on missions that required her to be away for weeks at a time. But she always came back to the apartment she shared with Buffy and Andrew in the end. It was the first real home she'd ever had.

But Buffy made her promise to check in at least every other day, and she was supposed to have called the night before.

Buffy just wanted to know that she was safe, wherever she was. And she also liked hearing Faith's 'on the road' stories. Truth was, Buffy was a little envious. Faith wasn't the only one feeling restless. But Buffy had her responsibilities. She had the school, and the council, and her friends. She couldn't just take up and leave.

"I'll call her tonight," Buffy declared, once she'd finished her breakfast and deposited the dirty dishes in the dishwasher.

"Are we going out tonight?" Andrew asked, as Buffy gathered her bag and coat and prepared to leave for the school.

"You wanna?"

"Not really. I rented G.I. Joe from the video store. Channing Tatum has the most perfect abs. We could watch it?"

Buffy rolled her eyes and grinned. "Sounds like a plan," she said, before heading out the door.

"Man, those girls are hyper," Buffy moaned, groaning and stretching her aching arm muscles as she entered the slayer school library where Giles was waiting for her as he poured over some old texts.

Sometimes the library creeped her out a little. It reminded her far too much of the destroyed one in Sunnydale High.

"Yes, quite," he replied distractedly, not looking up from where he was hunched over the low table.

Buffy raised an eyebrow. "Hi Buffy! How are you? I'm great, thanks. How was lesson? It was fine. That's nice."

Giles finally looked up, having the grace to look a little embarrassed at his ignorance. "I'm sorry, Buffy. How did the lesson go?"

"Fine and dandy." She smiled. "Although, suggestion...get the cooks to stop feeding the girls so much sugar. It makes them jumpy."

"I suspect if we told the cook how to do her job she might skin us alive."

"She is kinda scary."

Giles frowned for a second. "I thought today was your day off?"

Buffy flopped down on one of the chairs near by him and leaned her head on the table. "Was being the operative word. Vi couldn't make it so Willow told Kennedy to call me in."

"And there was no one else available?"

She shrugged and lifted her head. "So, what's with all the books?" she asked, hoping for a quick subject change.

It had the desired effect and an excited expression lit up Giles' face, just like it always did when he got all worked up about one of his old books. "Ah, well..." he started, picking up one of the heavier books and bringing it round the table so that Buffy could see. "You remember last week an old contact of mine called up and requested I meet with him?"

"The one with the bad teeth?"

"Yes, yes. I suppose he did have a rather bad dental problem."

"Oh. Well then, yes, I do. No one on this earth could forget those set of gnashers."

"He reminded me of a prophecy, one I haven't looked at in some years. He informed me that it would be of great importance."

"When?"

"Um, I'm not quite sure."

"Well, what's the prophecy?"

"I'm not quite sure of that either."

Buffy looked at him through narrowed eyes. "I knew we should have picked Andrew to be head of the watchers council," she teased.

Giles whipped off his glasses and began to rub them furiously on the bottom of his woolen jumper. "I only just this morning located the texts I need to translate the damn thing. It's in an old, forgotten language. I was working on translating it years ago before I was called as your watcher. In my eagerness to do my job it slipped my mind." He sniffed, forcing the glasses back onto his face and wincing as one of the arms poked his ear.

"I was just kidding, Mr Grumpypants. Besides, Andrew would suck at being head. He'd have us all wearing shiny tights and capes and masks. So, you say this language is forgotten?"

"Indeed."

"Then how do we remember it?"

"I believe with the resources we now possess and Willow's magical knowledge it shouldn't be as difficult a task as it may have once been."

"Cool beans. How long?"

"Four months. Maybe five."

She whipped her head around to stare at him. "Five months? Seriously? And that's not long to you?"

"Not in the grand scale of things, no."

"But what if it's all big and bad and apocalypsey?"

"Then we'll figure it out. I'm sure if there's a coming disaster then there will be other signs."

She sighed, pouting a little as she slumped into her chair. "I guess. But if we all get sucked into hell then I get full rights to say I told you so."

"Of course. Now, how was patrol last night."

"It was way up on the vamps, Giles. Like, every time I turned around there was another nasty crawling out of its grave. I swear, I've never seen the graveyards around here so alive...with the dead."

Giles looked at Buffy for a long moment, before ducking his head and giggling. "Quite amusing. Alive with the dead. Well punned."

"Lose focus much, Man of the Speedy Emotion Change?"

He cleared his throat and ducked his head. "Sorry. What do you think we should do about it?"

Buffy whimpered and stuck out her bottom lip. "I have to be plan girl now? Can't I just be the one who goes out there and kicks some evil undead butt?"

"Well, the first thing I suggest we do is get some people together to research some possible reasons as to why demonic activity is on the rise."

"Oh. I knew that."

"How long has this been going on for? Was last night the first night that numbers were unusually high?"

"I guess not. I mean, I've been getting more and more activity lately, but I've never really thought about it up until last night. But last night was still the highest since we've been here. Maybe we should ask some of the slayerettes, see if they've noticed anything unusual on their group patrols?"

"That sounds like a good start. I'll have Rona get on to it this afternoon."

"You don't want me to?"

"No." He looked at her over the top of his glasses, his expression softening. "I want you to go home and finish what's left of your day off."

Her expression brightened and the smile she gave him was dazzling. "You sure?"

"You deserve it, Buffy. You work too hard."

"Thank you, Giles!" she squeaked, wasting no time in jumping up and grabbing her stuff. "I knew there was a reason why you're my favorite watcher."

"Of course." He chuckled.

"And I'll do a sweep through town tonight," she called as she practically ran through the door. "I'll call you if there's anything unusual."

"Have fun," he replied, still smiling as he pulled the texts back towards him.


	3. Chapter 3

Tomorrow

Disclaimer – Don't own anything you might recognize. They all belong to their respective owners.

Tomorrow

Buffy yawned and stretched as the movie she and Andrew had been watching came to an end. "That was fun," she said. "Although the fight scenes – totally unbelievable."

"You know, that's why I hate watching action movies with you and Faith," Andrew commented. "It's just yap, yap yap. Right the way through. I could do this better, if that was me I'd blah blitty blah blah blah."

"Says the guy who guy who can't watch Dirty Dancing without speaking the lines along side the characters all the way through."

Andrew sighed contentedly. "Nobody puts Baby in the corner."

"Whatever. I'm gonna go patrol. This new rise of baddies has me a little antsy."

"Okay. I'll be here making cookies for the watchers in training meeting tomorrow, so no stealing when you get home."

She stuck her bottom lip out as she slid into her coat. "None?"

"Nuh uh."

"But...cookies!"

He heaved a great sigh. "Fine. I'll make you a special Buffy cookie. But no touching the others."

"You're the best," she replied, flashing him a grin as she headed out of the door.

The graveyard was silent. Suspiciously so. The bright moon shone down upon the slightly damp grass, untainted by the shadows of clouds. It seemed too peaceful, especially when there was such a sense of restlessness in the air.

The quietness that had fallen was in stark contrast to what it had been like only minutes previously.

Buffy had done two sweeps through town, and not a single vampire had shown its ugly head. The reason had become apparent when as soon as she had entered the graveyard closest to town she had been set up on by a dozen of the snarling blood suckers.

But they had been weak, all of them fledglings, and it had taken her less than fifteen minutes to take them all out.

And now the silence. And her slayer senses were telling her that something was definitely up.

It had been a diversion.

Someone – or something – wanted to keep her busy. Keep her away. Now she just had to find out why.

Closing her eyes, she breathed in deeply through her nose, holding it a moment before releasing it through her mouth. She focused, just like the way Giles had taught her to all those years ago back in Sunnydale.

And there it was. The tinglies.

Making a quick swivel to the right, she began to sprint across the graveyard, making no noise at all as she dodged between the gravestones. Cold air whipped at her cheeks but it didn't deter her as those nifty slayer senses of hers became stronger and stronger.

Finally she reached a halt, sheltering herself behind a large tree as she scoped her surroundings, looking for whatever troublesome beasty might be up to no good.

"Hello, ugly," she muttered under her breath, spying a lone vampire about twenty feet from her hiding place. He was whistling a surprisingly jaunty tune as he as he used a large shovel to dig dirt out of a grave. "Ugh. A grave robbing bad guy. That is so cliché."

Sighing with disappointment that this seemed like it was going to be her big excitement for the night, she stepped out from the shadows, stake in hand, and strolled casually towards the vampire. "So, you sent the diversion?" she questioned, her voice dripping with disdain.

"Slayer!" The vampire stopped digging and hissed, spotting the stake in her hand.

"Ya know," she said, quirking an eyebrow. "that doesn't get any more original each time you guys say that. I'm the slayer. I know. Kinda got that memo already."

"You dare to mock me?" he demanded.

She rolled her eyes. "So what, you're some kind of upper level vamp? Got a few minions running after you, who are all dust in the wind, by the way. Gotta tell ya, buddy...not impressed. Met me a few master vamps in my day. Now them, they were scary. Well, some of the time, anyway," she added as an afterthought. "Other times they just liked to brood. Or have sex. Which we are totally not doing, just so you know."

"I'm going to enjoy killing you," he growled. "I'm going to rip out your intestines and decorate my halls with them. And then I'll-"

"Okay, in the words of my good friend Willow's evil vampire twin...bored now."

Before the vampire had a chance to react, she'd leaped forward and punched him in the jaw. Spinning around, she kicked him in the chest, causing him to fly a few feet in the air and hit the ground with a loud thump. A second later she was on top of him, a hand at his throat, pinning him to the ground.

"Tell me why you're digging up that grave," she demanded in a sweet voice.

"Why would I tell you anything?"

"Cause if you don't I'm gonna kill you."

"You're gonna kill me anyway."

"Uh...well, yeah. But you could tell me for funzies?"

"Go to Hell."

"Well that's just rude." She pouted and punched him in the face.

"If I tell you, his punishment for me will be far worse than what you could ever inflict."

"Who?"

"I'd die before I told a dirty slayer like you."

She shrugged. "Okay." And a second later, the stake in her hand was embedded in his heart.

Standing up, she brushed the dust of her red leather pants and looked over at the half dug open grave.

"Aw, jeez."

And with a sigh, she picked up the shovel and began to hurl the dirt back in.

"Hey, Giles," she said into her cell a good ten minutes later, after she had successfully refilled the grave. She now sat resting against the gravestone, a thin layer of sweat covering her body from the exertion.

"Hello, Buffy," he replied, sounding wide awake.

Buffy looked at her watch. "Giles, it's twelve fifteen am, why are you still up?"

"I've been looking over the texts with Willow. She's just left."

"Oh right, find anything yet?"

"Not yet, but we'll get there. It's early days. Have you just got back from patrol."

"Still there. I'm about to head home but I wanted to call you first."

"Why? Was there something of interest?"

"Yeah. I mean, the town was a bust, but as soon as I hit Abraham Graveyard I was attacked by a whole bunch of vamps. Eleven or twelve, I'd say."

"Oh my. Are you alright?"

"Yeah, it was a piece of cake. But that's not the whole of it. The vamps came after me as some kind of diversion, Giles. They were tryna distract me."

"Is that so? What from?"

"Get this...it was just some higher level vampire digging up someones' grave. Guess he didn't think about the menial labor before he sent all his lackey's after me."

"Digging up someones' grave, you say?" he asked, his interest piqued.

"Uh huh."

"Did you find out why?"

"Nope. He wouldn't talk. Said someone worse than me would kill him if he did."

"I see. Well did you find out who this other person – or thing – was?"

"Uh, no to that one as well. I did try, but then he got all with the insults and I got a little pissed and slightly stake happy."

Giles heaved an impatient sigh. "Buffy, we've been over this, time and time again. You need to learn to show a little patience in delicate matters such as these."

"Delicate?! The guy was an evil blood sucking fiend! I was just doing my job. Jeez."

"There's no need to get angry, Buffy. I was merely pointing out that there are other measures we could have taken to obtain the information from him. Less violent methods."

"Like what?"

There was a pause, and she could hear him clearing his throat in embarrassment. "Okay, maybe not in thissituation."

"Ha. Who feels like a dummy now?"

"Do behave, Buffy. Can you tell me the name on the gravestone of the grave he was trying to dig up."

She craned her neck around to the hard rock that she was leaning against, squinting to make out the worn description in the moonlight. "Uh...Louisa Brown. Loving mother, devoted wife. Will be missed by all. Born 1889, died 1920. Oh, that's so sad, she was only thirty one when she died. And by the way, next time I die I want something funny on my head stone. A knock knock joke, or a dirty limerick."

"The name doesn't ring a bell. I can't recall any reason as to why demons would be digging up her grave. If Willow hadn't of left already I could have asked her to look it up."

"Okay, Giles, seriously. You're the head of the freakin watchers council. Learn how to use a computer already."

"I'll have her or one of the other technologically minded students get on it first thing in the morning," he said, pretending not to have heard her. "For now I want you to dig up the grave and see if you can find whatever it was he was looking for."

Buffy bolted up from where she had been slouching. "But Giles!" she whined. "I just filled the damn thing back in. Are you serious?"

"As a heart attack. Buffy, this could be very important."

She huffed and stuck out her lower lip, even though there wasn't anyone around to see it. "Fine," she grumbled, reaching over to where she had discarded the shovel not minutes before. "But tomorrow I want a shiny gold star to stick on my sweater, and a stamp that says 'Good little trouper."

"Hi, Louisa," Buffy said some time later, a grimace forming as she opened up the casket. "Holy crap. I hope I didn't smell that bad when I was dead. Uh, no offense." She lifted her cell up to her ear where Giles was waiting. "So, what should I look for exactly."

"I'm not entirely sure. Anything unusual. Root around."

"Okay, ew. You want me to root around a dead lady's corpse? Giles, that's low, even for you."

"I don't know, find a stick or something."

"You never heard that old saying, 'Respect the dead.', did you?"

Hearing his impatient tut, she rolled her eyes and hoisted herself out of the grave, lowering herself back in again within the minute, this time with a stick in hand.

"This feels so wrong," she muttered. "Ooh! Pretty!"

"What's pretty?"

"Her necklace. It's shiny."

"We haven't the time to be admiring shiny objects adorning a dead woman's neck. We're looking for something-"

"It's not adorning her neck."

"What?"

"It's clasped in her hands. I can just see it poking through. Hold on, let me get a better look...Oh God!"

"What? Buffy what is it? Are you hurt?" he questioned urgently.

"I accidentally just poked my stick through her hand! Oh God, I'm so going to Hell!"

"Do you have it?"

"What? No."

"Take it."

"You want me to take the dead woman necklace?"

"We have no time to dilly dally around worrying about morals. Is the necklace the only thing of interest in the grave?"

"I think so."

"Then take it."

Harrumphing, she bent down to try and extract the necklace without touching any part of old Louisa. "Bleck! Remind me to never stop showering. Ever!" she said, wincing as her hand brushed the dried flesh of the woman's hand. "Okay, got it. Ooh, it's even prettier up close. More of a pendant than an necklace though."

"What kind of gemstone is it?"

"Not sure. It's kind of bumpy and a silvery white color with bits of purple in it. You know, I have the perfect dress to go with this."

"Hmm, I'll have to take a look at it before I can know more. Bring it by first thing tomorrow?"

"Sure. Is that everything for tonight?"

"Yes, I believe it is. Once you've refilled the grave you can probably head back home and get some sleep."

"Yay. Oh, did Rona get anything out of the mini slayers?"

"Not really. She asked, but although they've noticed a significant rise in demonic activity of late, nothing else out of the ordinary has occurred that they know of."

"Okay. Well, I'm gonna go. Got a hot date with a shovel. And get some sleep, Giles. Don't stay up all night reading."

And ignoring the mutterings about how he was the watcher and the supposed advice giver, she hung up.

It was only as she arrived home that Buffy realized that she'd forgotten to call Faith before she left for patrol. She looked at her watch. One thirty am. Damn it, she'd have to call tomorrow.

Silently, so as not to wake Andrew, she made her way down the hallway towards the bathroom and flicked the light on. After turning on the hot water to fill up the bath, she slipped off her jacket and went to stand in front of the mirror. Gripping the sides of the sink, she couldn't help the sad look that appeared.

Her t-shirt was torn in two places, and so wrinkled that no iron of the earth would be able to get those babies out, even if the shirt hadn't of already been destroyed. Her face and arms were covered in mud and dust, and blades of grass were mingling with the mud that caked her hair. Across her forehead was an already healing gash. She didn't even remember getting it, though it must have been some time in the vamp attack. Blood that was now dry had trickled down the side of her face.

She wasn't exactly the stuff dreams were made out of.

This was exactly why she didn't do dating anymore. What kind of a man wanted a woman like this?

It might not have felt so bad if she wasn't so...lonely. Faith was wherever she was. Dawn was at university in England under the watchful eyes of Robin and Gunn and two of the most advanced slayerettes. And Xander and Willow...things just hadn't been the same with them for a long time. She had Giles and Andrew, she knew, but somehow it just wasn't the same.

Shaking her head to get rid of the little self pitying moment she had come across, she began to strip down for the almost ready bath.

She groaned in pleasure as her body slid down into the steaming water, her skin tingling deliciously – and for once in a none slayer way – as her skin adjusted to the heat. Sliding forward a little more, she submerged her head in the water for a second so that her hair was completely wet.

She was so tired, and her body was aching from all the digging, though the bath was soothing those aches in the nicest way.

Through hooded eyes, she watched the flickering flame of one of the candles she had lit, hypnotized by its shining glow...

Buffy watched in fascination as the tips of Amanda's fingers drummed impatiently on top of the desk opposite her.

"You died," she said finally, sadness tinting her voice as she looked up into the dead slayers eyes.

Amanda nodded. "And this place fell into the giant crater. But here we are."

"Here we are." Buffy sighed, looking around her office in the Sunnydale High School. "You were one of my first students you know. One of the first ones I gave advice to."

"I remember. I was having boy troubles. Seems kinda trivial now, huh."

There was another moment of silence before Amanda stopped drumming her fingers and pointed towards a compact mirror that sat on the table in front of Buffy. Neither girl mentioned that it hadn't been there moments before. "You should take a look at that," Amanda suggested.

"I don't want to."

"What are you afraid of? The future?"

Buffy sighed and picked up the mirror. "I'm not afraid. Slayers aren't supposed to be afraid."

"Everyone is afraid sometimes."

Buffy sighed again, louder this time, and flicked open the compact. Immediately she could hear the sound of a roaring fire, and the sound of someone screaming in pain. She looked into the mirror and blinked. The green and the white of the eyes disappeared, a cold black taking their place. She snapped the mirror shut and threw it on the table, the sounds of fire and screaming disappearing straight away.

Amanda shook her head sadly. "I'm sorry. You weren't supposed to see that."

"What was it?"

"I think you know."

"Was it me?"

"You're in the wrong place. Don't worry though, she'll be here in a moment to point you in the right direction. I'm not sure how you ended up here."

"You're avoiding my question," Buffy pointed out, her tone dry.

"Was it you? Maybe. But I think he'll save you."

"Who will."

Amanda looked up, staring at something behind Buffy's back and smiling. "She's here."

Buffy looked around and her eyes widened.

"Hi, sweetie." Her mom smiled and held out her hand.

"Mommy?" she whispered, tears springing to her eyes.

"I've come to take you to where you're supposed to be. Take my hand."

"I never expected to see you here," Buffy said with a sniff, reaching out and slipping her hand into her mothers, allowing herself to be pulled up out of her chair.

She looked back at where she had been sitting, frowning as she recognized her old couch from her home in Sunnydale. "I never liked that settee," she stated. "Too many springs." Apart from that, she didn't give any indication that she had noticed the change in setting as her mother led her through their old house and to the front door.

"You have to go out there," Joyce said sadly, cupping her daughters cheek with her hand.

"There's gonna be bad stuff out there, right?"

"I'm sorry. I wish I didn't have to. All I ever wanted to do was protect you."

"I know."

Joyce removed her hand and moved towards the door knob, twisting it and pulling open the door. They both stood for a moment and gazed into the bright whiteness.

"It'll be quicker from now on," Joyce warned, squeezing her daughters arm.

"I love you, mommy," Buffy said, before taking a deep breath and stepping out of the door into the light.

The pace had indeed quickened. Buffy span in a circle in a dark cave, the pure white face of an almost human like demon cackling through his set of gruesome looking teeth as an unknown entity chanted in the dark shadows. She strained to make out what the voice was saying, but she couldn't understand the words.

The scene shifted to a dark forest. Buffy was being pinned to a tree by the white faced demon, and a similar looking nasty had Faith pinned by her throat to another tree near Buffy.

"No!" Faith screamed, her eyes widening as she saw the knife that was seconds away from being stabbed through Buffy's gut.

And then she was back in the cave, blood running from a gash in her arm. She wondered how it had gotten there, and why she was allowing white faced demon to collect it in a glass tube.

Back in the forest, she and Faith were fighting back to back against two dozen vampires.

"There's too many!" Faith shouted. "We need help!"

The vampires vanished and a man stepped out. And ordinary looking man. However, Buffy could smell the evil on him. Taste it.

"They were ruining the party." He grinned and indicated towards where the now missing vamps had been stood. He was dangling something shiny from his finger, teasingly. The pendant.

Buffy blinked, and then she was walking through the training room in the slayer school. She could hear a quiet sniffling coming from a dark corner of the room, and made her way over towards the noise.

"Maggie?" she queried softly, recognizing the raven locks of one of the first slayers they had taken on.

Maggie's head darted up, but instead of the tear stained face Buffy had been expecting, she was laughing. Cackling.

"Just because you think it's over..." she started. "...doesn't mean you've won."

"Tell me what you mean," Buffy demanded.

"He'd go to the end of the world to save you. He'd die. He'd sacrifice it all." The younger slayer stood up and slowly walked towards Buffy, reaching up on her tip toes to whisper in Buffy's ear. "But death is his gift."

Buffy frowned. "Don't you mean death is my gift?"

Maggie tutted three times, shaking her head slowly. "Death is his gift."

"Okay, cryptic much?"

Maggie sighed. "I know. It's a curse. Going in circles and speaking in riddles, when all I really wanna do is hurt you." She pouted. "But they'd punish me if I did that."

"Who would."

"Oh, him and her. Her and him. I like him, but she's nothing. I hate her. Older than me, but younger than you, though age has nothing to do with it. But him, he's gonna rule this world. And there'll be nothing no one can do to stop it, especially with his chosen two by his side."

"What chosen two?"

"I'm bored with you now. Leave me," Maggie snapped, clicking her fingers impatiently.

And with a gasp, Buffy woke up and shot up into a sitting position, a hand resting over her beating heart as she ignored the sloshing water that leaked over the sides of the bath tub and onto the floor.

She shivered as she stepped out of the now cold bath, wondering how long she'd been sleeping for. The candles had gone out, and the only light came in the form of the glow of the moon as it shined through the window.

Reaching for the large, fluffy towel she had thankfully left warming up on the radiator, she flicked on the bathroom light and fished out her cell phone from her jacket pocket before moving through to her bedroom to sit on her bed.

With a cringe as she saw the time, she hit speed dial number 1 and put the phone to her ear.

"Yo, B! What took you so long?" a wide awake sounding Faith answered.

"What do you mean?" Buffy asked, surprised. "And hey, by the way."

"I mean I've been staring at my phone for the past five minutes, waiting for it to ring."

"I was in the bath. And how did you know I was gonna ring?"

"Got me one of those freaky ass slayer dreams, figured you'd of had one too. Am I right?"

"Yeah." Buffy sighed, rubbing her temples as she tried to figure out what the hell the dream had meant.

"Man, my head is spinning! Hey, did we have the same dream?"

"Freaky demons with real white faces and teeth that would make a vamp green with envy?"

"You too, huh. Guess we've found our new big bad. And why were you asleep in the bath?"

Before Buffy could reply, she heard a muffled male voice say something to Faith on the other end of the phone.

"Do you mind not getting excited at the thought of my friend in the bath, please?" Buffy heard Faith say to the voice, and after a pause, "Yes, she is the one in the picture...So? Doesn't mean you can start getting dirty thoughts, unless they involve me...Whatever, go wake your brother, jackass...I know what time it is, go wake him...Cleveland...Yes, because of the dream...Cause it's important...I swear to God I'm about to beat your ass...Thank you!"

"Who was that?" Buffy asked, smiling.

"A guy I met last week. He's good with demon fighting and all that crap. I'll bring him along, he might come in handy."

"Cool. More help the better. And what picture."

Buffy heard the sound of Faith clearing her throat embarrassedly down the phone. "Uh...just a picture that I keep in my wallet."

"Of?"

"Ack! Me and you and Dawnie and Andrew from last Christmas, alright?"

"Aw, that's sweet."

"Ugh, we're not gonna have one of those emotional girly moments, are we?"

"Nah. Not unless I tell Andrew."

"If you do I'll totally kick your ass."

"You could try. So you're heading back?" Buffy asked, relief sounding heavily in her voice.

"Yeah, as soon as the mighty jackass wakes his brother up. Hey! You might like him, he's kinda broody."

"Who is?"

"The brother."

"Oh. Nah. I'm totally over that phase. From now on, the only guys who go near Buffy are happy guys...and alive ones. And anyway, I'm giving up on the whole dating scene."

"Who said anything about dating? Maybe all you need is a quick rough and tumble?"

"And with that disturbing note, I'm gonna go. I fell asleep before I could wash my hair. When do you think you could get here?"

"If we drive straight through we could get home tomorrow evening."

"Good. I missed you."

"Yeah, me too, B. The geek as well."

"You'll make him cry again if you keep calling him that."

"He loves it. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow."

"Wait, B?"

"What's up?"

"What about that Maggie chick?"

Buffy's stomach dropped as she remembered. Maggie was one of the best slayers they had. They'd found her within weeks of the destruction of Sunnydale, and she'd quickly risen right to the top of the ranks. Was she evil? Or was it just a trick of the dream?

"There's nothing we can do about it right now. She got sent on a mission last week tracking a Tahwtar demon. She'll be way up in the mountains by now. I'll have Willow see if she can do a tracking spell on her tomorrow. If not, I guess we just wait until she gets back."

"Man, that girl was awesome, too. I sure as hell hope she's not evil."

"Me too."

And with that, they said their goodbyes. Buffy promised to wait until Faith arrived before telling Giles about the dream, though she knew he'd be pissed she hadn't told him sooner.

With a sigh, she pulled herself off the bed and headed back towards the bathroom.


	4. Chapter 4

Gonna Get It

Disclaimer – Don't own anything you might recognize, all belongs to its respective owners.

Gonna Get It

"Okay, this is it. You can park here," Faith instructed a very tired and very grumpy Dean Winchester.

He rolled his eyes and twisted the steering wheel in the direction she was pointing in, silently thanking God that they had finally arrived.

They'd been traveling for a good seventeen hours, and the only time Faith had allowed them to stop was to take a whiz. That was it. Seriously. She'd made him pack up his stuff at four in the freakin morning, and then it was up to him to drive the whole damn way. No stops for food, nothing. At least she and Sam had been able to nap the trip away. And why did he agree? Cause she scared the crap outta him. And she was hot in bed.

He pulled into a large car park and parked up, turning to his sleeping brother, who had somehow managed to sprawl his ridiculously long body across the back seat of the car.

Dean frowned, and thumped his brothers leg. Why the hell should he get to sleep? "Wake up, sleeping beauty!" he called with a smirk as Sam sprung up into a seated position, a dazed look on his face, a little like a deer caught in headlights.

"What is it? What's going on?" Sam asked, his head darting around as he looked for trouble.

"Get your ass up, lazy, we're here," Dean snapped as he tried to hide his grin.

"Someone's grumpy," Sam mumbled, rubbing his leg.

"Someone's been driving continuously for seventeen hours."

Sam was saved from retorting by an impatient Faith, snapping, "You two girls gonna stop bickering, or am I gonna have to drag your asses outta the damn car?"

Sam and Dean looked at each other apprehensively. A week ago, when they'd first met the brunette slayer, she'd made the same kind of threat. They'd looked at each other and burst into amused and disbelieving laughter. The laughter had stopped abruptly when she had literally thrown them across the room.

The three of them climbed out of the car, each stretching out their muscles in pleasured delight, happy to finally be working out their aching muscles. Dean looked up at the large bock of apartments and whistled in appreciation. "Damn!" he exclaimed with a grin. "This place is awesome."

"Pretty sweet, right?" Faith replied, happy to be home.

Despite her desire to travel and her dislike for being strapped down to one place, she did love her home. Or maybe she just loved what it represented, or the people in it. Whatever. She wasn't one for deep and meaningful thoughts. She was just glad to be there, was all. And she was proud of it. She'd come a long way from living in and out of crappy motel rooms. Now they were restricted to travel only.

"How many floors are there?" Sam asked.

"Sixteen."

"What number are you?"

"Nine. Hey, there's an outdoor pool here and everything, ain't that wicked?" she bragged.

"You gonna be okay with that Dean?" Sam asked, his voice purposely condescending as he teased his brother. "I mean, nine floors is a long way up."

"Shut up, dude! I'm not afraid of heights!"

"Could have fooled me. Last time you were off the ground I remember you screaming. Like a girl."

"Like Hell I did! And the plane was about to crash!"

Faith rolled her eyes at the brothers' bickering and ran around to the trunk. She was practically bouncing up and down in excitement as they collected their bags from car, and she ran ahead of them as they made their way towards the entrance, despite the fact that she had her incredibly heavy bag of weapons over one shoulder, and her clothes bag over the other. Sam remembered the night before when he had tried to lift her weapon bag to put it in the trunk, and had almost put his back out in the process. He shook his head, making a mental note once again to reread up on the notes his father had written on slayers.

"Where's the elevator?" Dean asked, looking around the ground floor as they entered the lobby.

"There isn't one," Faith smirked, opening the door that led to the stairwell and gesturing for him to walk onwards with a sweep of her hand.

"You kidding? Sixteen floors and there's no elevator? This place sucks."

Faith laughed. "You're such an ass when you're tired."

The three of them made their way up the nine flights of stairs, Dean grumbling the whole way while Sam tried his hardest not to laugh at his older brothers' bad mood.

"Thank freakin God," Dean huffed as they finally reached Faith's floor. And then, "What the Hell is that?"

"What's what?" Faith asked distractedly, searching her pockets for her keys.

And then she heard it. Some kind of weird music was coming from behind her front door. It sounded old, and definitely not something she or Buffy would ever have playing. "Andrew," she mumbled in conclusion, rolling her eyes.

She finally found her key and fished it out of her pocket, unlocking the door swiftly and making her way inside, closely followed by Dean and Sam. They followed her down a short hallway and then into a larger room, where the three of them stopped in their tracks.

They were clearly in what was used at the living room. It was nice – cream carpets and walls, and a large window that took up one side of the room – but the chairs and the settee and the tables had all been pushed back against the walls. In the center of the room, a short, blonde man was frustratedly trying to instruct an equally short, blonde woman on how to waltz.

"Take two steps back," he demanded. "No...that's not back, that's left...That's right. Okay, now we're gonna spin around...what are you doing? You're the slayer! Aren't you supposed to be all graceful?"

The blonde rolled her eyes playfully. "Yes, Andrew. I'm the slayer. Emphasis on the slay. I slay things. I don't dance with them." It was then that she looked over and noticed the three newcomers stood in the doorway. She smiled brightly, completely unembarrassed at the situation and allowed Andrew to spin her again, this time successfully. "Hey!" she greeted. "We'll just be a minute. Just as soon as grumpy here is happy with my ability to spin gracefully."

Sam heard Faith chuckle and he looked over in time to catch her shaking her head affectionately. He raised his eyebrows, surprised. Affection wasn't something he had witnessed in the fiery brunette before. And it wasn't something he could have imagined on her. He glanced over at Dean to see if he had noticed, but his older brothers gaze was transfixed on the blonde girl, his mouth slightly parted as he watched her, completely engrossed in her movements. Sam's eyebrows lifted a little higher as he wondered what the Hell that was about, before he made a conscious movement to drop them, realizing that he probably looked a little silly with them up in his hairline. He looked back at the dancing pair, and then back at Dean. His eyes still hadn't moved.

"And...drop!" Andrew instructed, bending her backwards as the music came to a close. He pulled her back up and let her go, turning to Faith and Sam and Dean and bowing.

"Nice moves, B," Faith said, her voice teasing as she moved more into the room to stand before her sister slayer.

Andrew tutted and heaved a sigh as he moved to turn off the stereo, grumbling, "I am so unappreciated," underneath his breath.

"Still rocking the blondie look?" Faith commented as the two girls came to face each other, nodding her head towards the lighter shade of blonde Buffy's hair had turned to since the weeks they had been apart.

Buffy folded her arms and looked at Faith. "Still painting on your clothes, F?"

The two girls glared at each other for a moment, before Faith lifted up a hand to grip Buffy's shoulder, the movement showing more than words ever could just how much their reunion had affected her. They broke out into luminous smiles and pulled each other into a warm hug. Andrew dramatically put a hand to his heart and heaved a happy sigh before wrapping his arms around the two of them and squeezing tight, twittering something about his girls being back together again.

Eventually, after long moments had passed, Faith pulled away and cleared her throat, embarrassed that the guys had seen her little emotional girly welcome. "This is Dean and Sam Winchester," she said to Buffy, gesturing for the brothers to come forward. "They're hunters. Helped me out with some ghost last week."

"A ghost? There's something we don't deal with everyday."

"Yeah," Faith replied, shrugging far too casually for Buffy to believe her unaffected. "The ghost of Bloody Mary. Bit of a bitch."

And then Buffy remembered. Bloody Mary, the ghost that avenged the dead. She knew that Faith had a whole bunch of things that she'd never talked about from her days as the Mayor's go to girl, and she wondered if Faith had nominated herself as bait for this ghost. She caught Faith's eyes, silently promising that they would talk later, before she turned to look the brothers over, her arms refolding and her expression turning serious. "Are you evil?" she asked in an even voice.

"What? No!" both men hastened to answer, taking an uneasy step back as they saw a menacing look forming in her eyes.

She took a step forward. "Because if you were evil I'd have to kill you. Slowly. Viciously. I have me a wicked set of knives and a whole barrel of super human strength. I could make your deaths very painful." Her voice was low and threatening and as she walked towards them, they backed up right into the wall.

"We're not evil!" Sam quickly assured her, a little frightened of the tiny blonde.

Buffy watched their expressions for a moment longer, before she and Faith and even Andrew burst into amused laughter. The brothers looked at each other in confusion.

"I'm sorry." Buffy giggled, all menacing airs dropped. "I know, I just couldn't help it. If you were evil then the alarms would have gone off the second you stepped foot in the door."

"Man, I wish you could have seen the looks on your faces," Faith said with a chuckle. "This is Buffy, by the way."

Sam heaved a sigh of relief, and Dean snorted. "You are one pair of scary chicks, you know that?" he grumbled.

"Buffy? As in, head of the slayer line Buffy?" Sam asked, his voice dripping with excitement as he faced her. His father hadn't written a whole lot about slayers, but he had written enough for Sam to know that this girl was legendary amongst hunters, though very few had gotten the chance to actually meet her.

"Surely am," she replied brightly. "Though Faith and I are kinda the only two chosen left, so were both head. The rest of the girls we kinda made."

"That's so awesome," Sam continued, sounding like an excited twelve year old, which caused his brother to raise his eyebrows to the roof. "And you have alarms that recognize evil?"

"Magical alarms. They set off a siren if any bad guys try to come into the building."

As Buffy and Sam talked magic, Dean tried hard not to stare at the blonde slayer. Truth was, he hadn't even needed an introduction. He'd been secretly studying her image ever since he'd accidentally caught sight of the little photo Faith kept in her wallet. He wasn't even sure why, but he'd been fascinated by it. And now here she was, in person. And he wished he could stop staring. He shifted uncomfortably, wishing that he could think of something interesting to say. Anything. Yet there he was, standing in silence while his brother yapped like a little girl. He hadn't felt like this much of a loser around a girl in...ever.

"So, what's with the danceathon?" Faith interrupted Buffy and Sam's conversation to ask.

Buffy rolled her eyes and grimaced. "Stupid slayer/watcher ball in March, remember?"

Faith pulled a face. "Oh, Hell no. No way am I going to no fancy dancing shindig."

"Faith, as the two head slayers, you and Buffy must show a good example to all of the younger slayers. Which means attending social gathering and functions and mixing with the watchers," Andrew interrupted, sounding so like Giles that Faith and Buffy couldn't help but stare.

"Whatever, Shorty." Faith snorted, before turning back to Buffy. "So, Andrew's teaching you to dance? You are aware that it's only the beginning of October, right?"

Buffy shrugged. "Blame the short guy. Apparently I'm not graceful enough."

Dean, who had been admiring the slender curves of Buffy's body, had to mentally restrain himself from mentioning that he thought she was plenty graceful. He was way too tired to be getting his ass kicked.

"So, it's cool if Dean and Sam crash here, right?" Faith questioned. "If they're gonna be helping us out with the big nasty it's the least we can do."

"That's fine." Buffy smiled at the brothers. "You want a tour of the place?"

"That'd be great," Sam replied with a returned smile, picking up his bag from where he'd dropped it at his feet and following the blonde slayer as she pointed out the kitchen that adjoined to the living room and telling him to help himself whenever he wanted before leading him down another hallway.

"What do you think of my girl B?" Faith asked Dean, as they made to follow the other two.

Dean shrugged and grunted out a noncommittal response, shouldering his bag and ambling out of the room, leaving Faith to snort at his guyness and follow him.

"There's only one spare room," he heard Buffy telling Sam. "So-"

"No worries," Faith interrupted. "Grumpy's in my room." She gestured towards Dean.

Buffy smirked. "Thought so." She turned back to Sam. "You be okay in my sisters room?"

"She won't mind?"

"Dawn's at collage in England – or do they call it university over there? Either way, she's not gonna notice."

"England? That's a long way to go."

"I know, right?" Buffy said with a sad little sigh. "But we needed someone in England to check out some property and scope the area out cause we're thinking about expanding now that we're settled here, and she volunteered. I didn't wanna let her go at first but then she pointed out that she's not a kid anymore and there was actually nothing I could do to stop her. Still hard, though."

"I hear ya," Dean spoke up for the first time, sharing a knowing smile with Buffy as he glanced at Sam.

She smiled right back at him. "Still, I sent her over there with two of our most skilled slayers, and two of the toughest guys on our team. Robin and Gunn. They sure as Hell wont let anything happen to her. Robin sends Giles daily reports."

"Oh right, the watcher guy?"

"The one and only. Or, well, the one of many. But you get my picture."

"Hey, did you talk to Giles today?" Faith asked Buffy.

"Nuh uh. I was supposed to go see him this morning about something I found last night but I thought it'd be better to wait for you to get here."

"Cool."

As the others dropped their things off in their respective rooms, Buffy headed back towards the kitchen to find Andrew washing dishes in the sink.

"Andrew, we have a dishwasher," she pointed out.

"I like to wash the plates before I put them in the washer," he told her. "Germs are icky."

"Oh. So, what do you think of Faith's new friends?"

"Very manly. Sam has such soulful eyes," Andrew replied wistfully.

"Okay, drool boy. You think they're hungry?"

"Maybe. Ooh! I could cook!"

"You guys hungry?" Buffy yelled down the hallway.

"Not if you're cooking!" she heard Faith call back, but Dean exited the room swiftly, looking happier than Buffy had seen him since his arrival.

"Starved!" he told her with a grin.

"Faith didn't let you stop for food, did she?"

"Woman's a slave driver," he grumbled good naturdly as he joined both Buffy and Andrew in the kitchen.

Buffy moved over to the fridge, bending down to take a look at what they had. "What're you hungry for?" she asked, glancing back up, only to stop in her tracks as she noticed the look in his eyes.

He refrained from giving the obvious answer, you, pretty sure that she'd get pissed with him flirting with her while he was shacked up with her friend, instead opting for, "Whatever you got is fine."

"I make a mean lasagna," Andrew stated, sidling up to Dean and staring up at him adoringly.

Dean's eyes widened slightly at Andrew's closeness and he shifted away a little, clearly uncomfortable. "Uh...thanks?"

Buffy grinned as she watched them, refraining from giggling out loud as she stepped away from the fridge. "Okay, if that's all sorted I'm gonna go patrol."

"Now?" Dean asked, a little desperately. "You're leaving me?"

He somehow managed to refrain from adding with Andrew, but she knew what he was implying. They both glanced over towards the little blonde watcher, who was busy chopping vegetables while simultaneously watching Dean, a dreamy look on his face.

"You'll be fine," Buffy said in her most sincere voice, patting Dean on the shoulder comfortingly, before grabbing up her coat and heading towards the door.

"Wait!" he called. "Can't I come?"

Hiding her smile, she turned back to face him. "You're too exhausted, you might mess up. Besides, you and Andrew will have a blast. And if he gets too grabby, Faith's just a room away." And with that, she was out of the door, working hard to smother her laughter at the look in Dean's eyes until she had gotten outside.

"So," Andrew started chattily as Dean awkwardly sat himself down on a kitchen stool, deciding that payback was definitely in the future for the blonde slayer. "You like Star Wars?"

Oh yeah, she was so gonna get it.


	5. Chapter 5

Second Impressions

Disclaimer – Don't own anything you might recognize, all belongs to its respective owners

Second Impressions

Dean rolled onto his back, groaning and wincing as the bright morning light of the sun caused his sleepy eyes to ache. He brought up a hand to rub his eyelids, before sitting up and resting himself on his elbow, wondering what the Hell it was that had woken him up.

"Holy crap!" he exclaimed as he opened his eyes to reveal an unamused looking Faith stood over him, her arms folded and her foot tapping impatiently on the floor. "How long've you been stood there?"

"A while. I swear to God you're harder to wake up than the dead. And I mean the dead variety who don't come back up to bite your ass. Why is there are chair wedged under my bedroom door handle?" she asked.

He darted his gaze away from her penetrating glare and cleared his throat embarrassedly. "Uh...no reason."

Slipping out of bed, he whipped the chair away from the door, heading out of the room before she could question him further. No way in Hell was he about to admit that he'd done it to protect himself from Andrew – his new, number one adoring fan. The guy had treated dinner the night before like some kind of date, candles and everything. And he had looked more than perturbed when Dean had opted out of a Star Wars movie marathon and chose to head on to bed instead.

Dean peered down the hallway cautiously...the pathway to the bathroom looked safe enough. He paced towards it quickly, but before he had a chance to enter, a door in front of him opened and he walked straight into a head of wild blonde hair.

"Oh!" Buffy let out, taking a step back.

Dean reached out for her shoulders to steady her – an unnecessary task as she hadn't so much as stumbled.

Without letting go of her shoulders, he looked down at her and grinned. She had clearly just woken up – her eyes were blinking sleepily and she had a crease mark on her cheek that must have been left by her pillow. Her hair was mussed up and wild, her cheeks were flushed, and the flimsy tank top and shorts she was wearing was doing nothing to hide her tanned, athletic body. Damn, she was sexy!

"Morning, sweetheart," he greeted, smirking at her flirtatiously while allowing his hands to slide gently from her shoulders down to her elbows.

Buffy blinked, trying to clear her head of her sleep filled mind. Oh crap, she had forgotten about their house guests. And here she was, strolling through the house, practically naked. But then, he wasn't wearing all that much either...a white t-shirt that was spread tightly across his chest and a pair of gray shorts, which honestly, was making her wonder if those thighs felt just as muscular as they looked. His feet were bare and she found herself thinking just how sexy those feet were. Never in her life had she thought of feet as sexy before. And his hair, all mussed and sticking up all over the place, it was just adorable enough for her to want to run her fingers through and...

She shook her head vigorously, finally beginning to really wake up. What the freakin Hell was she thinking? She looked down at where the pads of his thumbs were rubbing circles on the insides of her elbows and pushed him off.

"What the heck are you doing?" she hissed furiously.

He raised his eyebrows in faux confusion. "What? I'm just saying good morning."

"You were totally flirting with me!" she countered angrily, yet quietly enough so that the other members of the house wouldn't overhear.

He took a step closer and smirked down at her, feeling much more on his game than he had the night before now that he had gotten a decent nights sleep. "You sure about that? Maybe you were just hoping I was flirting with you."

She pulled a disgusted face and once again stepped away from him. "Yeah, cause you're just so irresistible," she replied, her voice dripping of sarcasm.

Dean shrugged carelessly. "It's okay that you want me. Most women do."

Dean was making Buffy angrier by the second, which she found she preferred to the lusty feelings she had been harboring moments before. Anger she could deal with. A whole bunch less confusing.

"Are you always this much of an ass in other peoples' homes?"

"Are you always this bitchy in the morning?"

"Are you always this much of a jerk...all the time?"

He pulled a wounded expression and folded his arms over his chest. "Hey, what'd I ever do to you? You've known me all off twelve hours."

"How about coming on to me moments after leaving my roommates bedroom?"

"I already told you, I was just being friendly," he responded, knowing that he was lying. This conversation wasnot turning out how he had been hoping.

Buffy reached up and punched him in the shoulder. It wasn't her hardest punch. In fact, she was positively holding back. But it was hard enough to cause Dean to stumble back a few steps into the wall and wince in pain.

"Jesus!" he hissed, rubbing his newly sore shoulder with his hand. "What the Hell?"

"Carry on being friendly," she said, a little menacingly. "I dare you."

And with that, she pushed past him and entered the bathroom, slamming the door on her way.

"Hey! I was just about to go in there!" he protested, only to hear the sound of her triumphant laughter before the shower was turned on.

"I do not like you!" he called through the door, deciding right then and there that it was true. And the thought of her being naked in the shower right at that moment was doing nothing for him. Nothing!

"Damn it," he groaned, shuffling away towards the kitchen and mumbling something about how much he hated crazy chicks.

"Yo B, what time are we headed over to talk to Giles?" Faith asked Buffy some time later as the latter entered the kitchen area.

"After breakfast. I'm starving."

"I made pancakes," Dean announced. "Haven't done that in years."

"Congratulations," was Buffy's sarcastic response.

"Yeah, I was gonna save you some. But then I remembered that I didn't like you, so I ate them," he countered.

Buffy flipped him off as she brushed pat him to set about making her own breakfast.

Faith and Sam glanced at each other in surprise, silently asking where the sudden hostility between his brother and her sister slayer had come from. In unison, the pair shrugged and went back to watching Dean and Buffy, who were now throwing not so subtle insults at each other as they moved about the kitchen.

After Buffy had finished preparing her breakfast, she took a seat across from Sam. After a moment, he glanced up from the paper he had began to peruse and with a start, he noticed that she was watching him. He raised an eyebrow, questioning her silently.

Shrugging in response, Buffy went back to her breakfast, stating, "I like you more than your brother."

Faith snorted loudly in amusement, and Sam tried to hide an appreciative chuckle as Dean threw an icy gaze her way.

"Of course you do," he grumbled. "Chicks like you always like the girly guys."

Ignoring Sam's 'Hey!' of protest at his brothers' comment, Buffy narrowed her eyes and looked at Dean. "What do you mean 'chicks like me'?"

He smirked in response, snatching up Sam's paper and heading over towards the other side of the kitchen where he hopped up onto the counter and opened it up with a flourish, humming a tune by Metallica under his breath as he began to read.

Buffy silently took in a large, calming breath. Damn, this guy really got under her skin! How the Hell he managed to irritate her so much after being in the room with her for so few minutes she had no idea.

She quickly ate her breakfast and calmly placed her knife and fork down on her empty plate, getting up and taking it over to the sink and rinsing it before putting it into the dishwasher gently. Slowly, she stood back up and turned around, before reaching a hand out, quick as a snake bite, and grabbing hold of one of Dean's swinging ankles, yanking it hard so that he slid straight off the counter and plummeted to the floor with a loud thump.

"What the Hell?" Dean yelled, making no movements to get up from his sprawled position on the ground.

Buffy bit her lip innocently and widened her eyes. "Oops?" she offered.

"You're a crazy son of a bitch, you know that?"

"It was an accident!" she protested, albeit a little feebly.

Rolling his eyes, Dean held out his hand towards her. " Whatever. Least you could do is help me up," he said through gritted teeth.

Huffing, she gripped his hand in hers, but before she had a chance to pull him up, he jerked her arm towards him, causing her to lose her balance. She fell over his legs and landed in a jumbled heap next to him.

"Maybe it's time we intervened," Sam suggested quietly to Faith, a little worried that this seemingly reasonless bickering was going to get out of hand.

Faith sat back in her seat and grinned rakishly as she watched the two blondes in the kitchen. "Nah. I need me a good dose of entertainment before we hit Boringsville later."

"Boringsville?"

"Scooby meeting. You know, watchers and all the rest of the gang. It's a total yawn fest. They'll just talk a whole bunch and then hit the research. You'd totally..." she looked him up and down for a moment. "...love it, actually. They're just your kinda people."

Buffy kicked out, untangling her legs from Dean's and moving herself into a sitting position. "Jerk!" she hissed.

"Oh, I'm sorry...wait, can you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"I...I think it's the sound of the pot, and it's...yep, it's calling the kettle black."

"Are you sure we shouldn't intervene?" Faith heard Sam ask her again.

"Hey, it's not like they're trading blows or anything. Chill, Sam, they'll be fine."

"You think you're hilarious, don'tcha?" Buffy growled.

"Pretty funny, yeah."

"Well I got news for ya, buddy. You're not."

"Oh, I am. You're just humorless. A humorless...wench."

"A wench? What the Hell is a wench?"

"I don't know, but I know you're one of 'em."

"Oh God, I am so gonna kick your ass!"

Faith's eyes widened as she watched her friend lunge towards Dean, fire in her eyes as she pounced. "Uh...maybe we should intervene?"


	6. Chapter 6

Their Stories

Disclaimer – Don't own anything you might recognize, all belongs to its respective owners.

Their Stories

"This is it," Buffy announced proudly as she, Faith, Andrew, Sam and Dean pulled up outside the Slayer Academy later that morning.

"Wow," Sam breathed.

Even Dean had to raise an eyebrow in silent approval.

The academy was a huge building. Endless floors and acres of land. It had been difficult finding a place big enough to house all the new slayers streaming in, let alone finding somewhere with rooms big enough for training lessons. And paying for it had been a whole other issue.

But with the Watchers' Council newly reinstated, things had slowly come together. Now they were hoping to expand. First to Europe, then to Asia, and other places across the world after that.

Andrew explained all of this to Sam and Dean as they five of them walked up the many steps towards the large front doors.

"I swear I won't be surprised if we get to the top of these steps and end up in front of the pearly white gates," Dean panted.

Buffy looked away, refusing to let out the smile that was tugging at the corners of her mouth. She didn't find him funny. She didn't find him funny.

"So, what about people who live nearby the area? What do they think this place is?" a curious Sam asked.

"A school for troubled girls," Faith said with a smirk. "At first we were gonna go with gifted, but then the locals kept on spotting the girls fighting or coming home after patrolling all bloody and bruised. So now they think that this is where troubled girls come to reform and that we just have real bad control over them."

Once at the top of the stairs, Buffy placed a hand on a small, flat black square that lay in place of a doorknob. After less than a second, it flashed and the Winchesters' heard the sound of the door unlocking.

"More magic?" Sam inquired.

"More magic," Buffy confirmed with a nod of her head. "It's just an identification thing that Willow worked up. We'll have to get her to add you and Dean on to it."

"But it's not even the start of the safety precautions we have on the place," Andrew added. "There are so many spells here that I can't even remember half of them."

"Really?"

"Yep. You must have passed at least half a dozen of them on the steps on the way up. There ain't no demon getting in this school."

They stepped through the large doors and entered a gigantic entrance room, several stories high. Balconies from other floors lines the walls, and it was a hive of activity.

Girls were everywhere.

Hanging off the balconies, calling to each other. Running across the entrance room, late to class. Lounging about on the sofas.

"I was right," Dean announced with a grin. "We ended up in heaven. Girl heaven!"

Sam rolled his eyes and ignored his brother, used to his attitude. Faith, however, turned and punched his arm. Hard.

"Holy crap!" he gasped, rubbing his sore arm. "What is it with you chicks and abusing me?"

"Watch your eyes," Faith warned. "Or you lose 'em. The only girl round here you should be appreciating is me."

"And most of these girls are under eighteen, anyway," Buffy added, not bothering to conceal her smirk. "There's a word for that, Deany Boy...jail bait."

"That's two words," was his lame retort.

"Miss Summers!" a young brunette, no more than fourteen, called from a balcony three of four floors up, saving Buffy from replying.

"Hey, Susan. You okay?"

"Sure. Kind of. Can I speak to you?"

"Sure you can. Now?"

"If that's okay," Susan replied, before placing both hands on the rail and flipping herself over the balcony gracefully.

Dean and Sam watched in amazement as she sailed towards the floor, landing smoothly on two feet.

"Jesus!" Dean murmured under his breath.

"Hey kid, what'd we say about jumping off the balconies?" Faith questioned lightly.

Susan looked bashful for a moment. "Sorry, Miss Lehane."

"No worries. Just don't do it again. Might hurt yourself."

Dean and Sam watched Faith in amazement. Gone was the rule breaking rebel they'd traveled with, and in her place was someone...almost responsible.

"Plus, I think you freaked these two out," Buffy added, motioning towards Sam and Dean.

"Who are they?" Susan asked, glancing at the guys through suspicious, narrowed eyes.

"Friends," Buffy replied, before glancing at Dean out of the corner of her eye. "Sort of."

"So can I talk to you, Miss Summers? It'll only be a minute."

Buffy looked over towards Faith, Andrew and the Winchesters. "Go ahead to the library. I won't be long.

And with that she she gestured for Susan to follow her into another room.

Somehow, Dean had expected a more impressive array of people. And...more of them.

Instead, sat around a large table was a man, possibly about the same age as his father, another man with an eye patch, a fidgety red head, a serious looking dark skinned woman, a short Chinese man and two women holding hands.

"Dude! Check it out!" Dean whispered excitedly to Sam. "Lesbians!"

Sam once again chose to ignore his brother.

"Ah, Faith!" the older man said as he looked up from the banana he had been busy peeling. "Welcome back."

The others all repeated his greeting, though in a somewhat subdued manner. Only the fidgety red head, the serious looking dark skinned woman and the short Chinese man showed any real enthusiasm. There was clearly no love lost in this room, Dean concluded.

"Thanks, G Man. Good to see you," Faith replied, walking further into the room and flopping down on a seat next to the eye patch guy.

Sam and Dean glanced towards each other, taking a small step towards the table before stopping awkwardly. All the occupants of the tables were now focusing on them, watching them and clearly wondering who they are.

"Oh," Faith said, waving a hand dismissively. "Everyone, this is Sam and Dean Winchester. Sam, Dean, this is everyone."

"Friend or foe?" the man she had called G Man asked with narrowed eyes.

Faith leaned back on the behind two legs of her chair and lifted up her chunky boot clad foot to rest on the table, folding her arms as she did so. "What, you think I'm gonna bring the bad guys here or something? Long time since I've swung that way."

Dean and Sam snuck a look at each other, confusion marring each of their faces.

"It was just a question, Faith," G Man replied, his voice even.

Faith sighed dramatically and swung her other boot up onto the table, crossing her legs over at her ankles. "If they were evil then they wouldn't be able to get in here, right? They're friends, okay? Here to help. Buffy's already met them and she's five by five. So just take a chill pill or...drink some tea or something."

Perhaps luckily for all involved, it was at that moment that Buffy rejoined the group, entering the room through the swinging library doors.

"Hey, guys!" she chirped, a smile lighting up her face. Her smile, however, began to drop as she sensed the tension in the air the further she strolled into the room. "What's with all the grumpy faces? Did Dean open his mouth already?"

"Mr Giles said that Sam and Dean were evil and then he accused Faith of going back to her bad girl ways," Andrew stated cheerfully. "Ooh Willow, your hair looks so shiny today! Have you changed conditioners?"

Giles spluttered in outrage, his head zipping from side to side as if looking for some conformation that Andrew wasn't speaking the truth. "I did not...I would never...you are...he is...Andrew, you're a bloody nincompoop!"

Buffy caught the way that Dean and Sam both knitted their eyebrows together in confusion and shrugged her shoulders apologetically. "He's English," she said. "It's a whole other language. I think he just insulted Andrew."

"Damned right, I did!" Giles confirmed with a huff. "Accusing Faith of returning to her darker days indeed. I merely asked whether her new friends were on our side!"

"Oh. Well, they are. So everyone just chillax, okay?" Buffy said, taking a seat next to Giles and gesturing for Sam and Dean to do the same. "You guys been introduced?"

"Uh...kind of," Sam supplied, while Dean just grunted out a, "No."

Buffy looked at Faith, who shrugged and leaned back a little further. "I was getting there."

"It's okay. Sam, Dean, this is Mr Giles, head of the watcher's council," she introduced, waving a hand towards the oldest man in the room. "He was also my watcher, and Faith's for a period of time. Taught me everything I need to know. And this is David Chan, one of our largest investors. He was the first to help us out when we needed money for the school." She smiled warmly at the short Chinese man, who nodded his head in greeting at the brothers. Next Buffy nodded towards the two women holding hands. "That's Willow, our big gun."

"I'm hardly a big gun," the woman answered with a pleased blush. "More like a little gun. Or a toy gun that shoots plastic bullets."

"Willow's a totally bad-ass Wicca," Andrew said proudly. "One time during my evil genius days I got sent to prison with the big guys. It toughens a man," he stated with a knowing look and a nod. "Willow totally ripped off the walls with her mind and...never mind," he finished lamely, catching on to the glares he was receiving from the members of the table in the know.

"You're a witch?" Sam asked interestedly.

"Uh huh. A good witch. Uh...most of the time."

"And you can do stuff with your mind?"

"Sometimes, I guess. Sometimes with words. It's a whole thing."

Dean glanced at Sam out of the corner of his eye, wondering why it was that his brother seemed so eager. But before he could ponder the subject Buffy had moved on to the brunette holding Willow's hand.

"That's Kennedy. Slayer," was all Buffy said. Dean raised his eyebrows, wondering at the short introduction after she had introduced the others so warmly. Not BFF's then.

"I'm more than that," Kennedy said smugly. "I'm one of the originals."

"I thought Buffy and Faith were the only two original slayers?" Sam asked.

A little of Kennedy's smug expression faded. "Yeah, well, I was there when Sunnydale collapsed. I was one of the first potential slayers to be involved in any real action."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "And swiftly moving on, this is Vi."

"Hi!" the fidgety red head greeted, waving her hand a little nervously.

"Like Kennedy, Vi was there with us when we took out the first evil. And, along with Kennedy, she's also one of our more advanced slayers. A real asset to the team."

Dean couldn't help but admire the easy way Buffy boosted everyone's morale, made them feel valued. He suspected that even without her super abilities, she would have made a hell of a leader.

"And smiley over there is Rana," she said, grinning at the serious looking dark skinned woman. "Rana sort of manages the school. Kinda like a headmistress or something."

Sam raised his eyebrows in surprise. "A headmistress? But you're so young!"

"Is that a subtle way of asking my age?" Rana requested. Her voice was low and smooth, silky and hypnotizing.

Sam blushed. "Uh, no...I mean, I was just...uh...what?"

"I am four hundred and seventeen years old. Four hundred and eighteen in March."

"And don't be expecting a big party, missy. You don't reach party getting status until you hit the big five oh oh," the man with the eye patch joked. Badly.

Rana watched Sam and Dean's shocked and wary faces with amusement. "I have seen many things in my lifetime. Been many people. Changed my appearance, my name. Time and time again. But never until I came to this school have I ever felt my actions were worthwhile."

"You...you're four hundred and..." Sam spluttered.

"You a demon?" Dean asked, his voice harsh and straight to the point.

"If I was evil, I couldn't be here. Just like you," she responded.

"Didn't answer my question."

Rana sighed, and leaned back in her chair. The others around the table knew better than to involve themselves in the conversation. Rana was more than capable of fighting her own battles. Whether they be mental or physical. "No. I am not a demon. However I was cursed by one."

"Why?"

"It is not a story I like to share."

Dean shifted, his hand unconsciously moving to rest on his gun. It was an action he didn't even notice, but Rana did.

"You don't trust me." It wasn't a question.

Dean shrugged apologetically. "The only beings we tend to meet with no expiration dates usually end up tryna kill us."

She heaved a sigh of frustration and turned away from him, her gaze steadily remaining on a smudge of dirt that the cleaner had missed on the wall to her right. "Three hundred and ninety one years ago I fell in love. I was nineteen years old."

Buffy looked down at her hands as Rana began her story. It was one she'd heard only once before, but it was one that would never leave her.

"Damien returned my love, and within months had asked for my hand in marriage. I accepted joyously and he returned home to tell his family of our news." She blinked and was silent for a moment, reliving memories that she had never been able to bury. "Yet instead of celebrating, his family were furious."

"Why?" Dean asked.

Rana turned her head to look at him, one perfectly shaped eyebrow raised. "The world is a different place than it once was, Mr Winchester. Back then, the color of our skin decided our worth, our place in society. Damien was from an all white family. My mother was black, my father was white and had abandoned us before I was even born. I was beneath Damien and his family."

"That's crazy," Sam blurted out. Dean nodded his head in agreement.

"Thank you. But as I said, the world is a different place today than it was back then. His father beat Damien, and locked him away, and he spread word to the townsfolk that I had corrupted Damien's mind. They came after me. Called me a witch." She closed her eyes as the horrors of that night replayed themselves in her mind. Horrors she would never describe to anyone. "But Damien escaped. He found me and we planned to run away together. Which is when his mother made a deal with a demon, posing back then as a witch. I'm not sure what was exchanged, what was worded. But I understand that she wanted rid of me. However, the demon was merciful. Instead of murder, or any other painful thing she could have inflicted upon me, she gave me eternal life. I'm not sure it wasn't worse."

"How so?"

"To live forever, watching everyone you love and care about die? It is the worst kind of pain imaginable. I realized that Damien and I could never lead a normal life together. I would remain young as he grew old by my side, so I left. And to thank the demon for showing me mercy, I sent it back to Hell." She bowed her head in regret. "I have been alone ever since. Until I came here."

"Wow," Dean breathed, as Rana's story came to an end. All thoughts of killing her vanished from his mind.

There was a heavy silence around the table for a full minute until the man with the eye patch held his hand up awkwardly. "Um...I'm Xander, by the way. In case anyone was wondering."

"What's your special power?" Dean asked.

"I'm a carpenter," he announced proudly.

"A magical carpenter?" Sam inquired.

Xander's smile dropped, and his hand fell limp. "Uh...no. Just a carpenter."

"So you both shared a dream, you say?" Giles questioned Buffy and Faith once again.

"Yup," Buffy replied, barely managing to refrain from rolling her eyes.

"And you're sure it was a slayer dream?"

Buffy huffed. "Are you seriously asking me that question? I've been doing this whole slayer thing for what? Eight? Nine years? And you think I don't know the difference between a slayer dream and a good ol' regular dream?"

"Yes, yes. You're quite right. Silly of me to presume. Have you and Faith ever shared a dream like this before?"

Faith and Buffy glanced over towards each other. Had they? They had never talked about it before. And both would have been sure that it would have been mentioned.

Buffy thought back to when they had been just a couple of teenagers. A couple of teenagers with the world on their shoulders. She had stabbed Faith to save Angel. And afterwards, while she had been recovering after Angel had nearly drained her, she had dreamed of Faith. Faith in her apartment, giving her the secret to bringing about the Mayor's downfall. Had Faith been aware of that dream?

Faith crossed her foot over her knee, an equally uncomfortable look on her face as the one Buffy had unconsciously taken on. She could remember with perfect clarity the dreams that had haunted her mind while she was in her coma. Dreams of Buffy. Terrifying. Menacing. Deadly. Murderous. But she was sure that Buffy was completely unaware. After all, it had just been her mind. Confused and playing tricks on her.

"Nope," both girls answered in sync.

A silence passed along the table while the other occupants tried to figure out if the girls were telling the truth or not. They seemed to be, but there was something about their tone of voice...

"Okay," Giles said, seemingly coming to a conclusion about their innocence. "Tell me about this dream..."

It took them almost an hour. It might not have taken so long had Giles not insisted on interrupting at every turn.

Their dreams were almost identical, except that it appeared that Buffy had been the only one to have dreamed of her mother and Amanda. Giles seemed particularly fascinated by this.

"It took place in the old Sunnydale High School?"

Buffy sighed, wondering how many times he was going to ask her this. "Yuh huh. In the high school, in my guidance councilor's office-" she was cut off by the sound of Dean snorting in amusement.

"What?" he asked, when everyone turned to look at him questioningly. "I just...can't believe they let you be a councilor."

Sam groaned quietly and buried his face in his hands, making a mental note bitch slap his brother later on for being such an embarrassing jerk.

"Okay, I'm gonna go ahead and ignore Mr Short, Blonde and Annoying over there on the grounds that he's an ass," Buffy countered with a roll of her eyes. "As I was saying, I was sat across from Amanda, in the high school, in my guidance councilor's office," She snuck a quick glare at Dean. "and then she showed me some mirror where my eyes went all black and freaky. You said this is what happens when a demon possesses someone, right?" she asked, looking at Sam.

"Yeah. Sounds like."

Buffy turned to Giles nervously. "Do you think this is like, prophetic or something? I mean, is there anything we can do? I don't wanna get all possessy!"

"Buffy, don't worry. It was more than likely a symbol for something else," Giles said, squeezing her shoulder reassuringly. "As the slayer, you are immune from certain things. Demonic possession being one of them. With the way you were created...what's inside of you already is far more powerful. No demon would be able to possess you."

Buffy heaved a sigh of relief and leaned back in her chair. "Good, 'cause I don't want no demon inside of me."

"Unless it's a vampire," Kennedy muttered under her breath.

There was an uncomfortable silence around the table, and Buffy watched as Willow discreetly dropped Kennedy's hand and mumbled, "That's enough."

Dean opened his mouth to ask what she had meant, but mercifully, David Chan stepped in and interrupted him. "You said this girl told you that you were in the wrong place. What does that mean?"

"Who knows?" Buffy replied, shrugging. "I've never really thought about where my slayer dreams come from before, but...maybe some kind of higher power? I don't know. I guess this one was interrupted and that's why I got sent to Amanda."

In the silence that followed, Giles lifted up the pendant that Buffy had handed over earlier and studied it. "I don't believe I have seen a gem quite like this before," he mused. "I wonder why it's so important. It must be, for it to have featured in you dream and to warrant being dug up by a vampire."

"I can check the internet, see if it matches anything on there. I'm still tracing Louisa Brown. No luck so far," Willow informed them with an apologetic smile. "Whoever she was...someone wanted her hidden."

"Yes, and the rest of us should get to work on researching the white faced demons from Buffy and Faith's dream," Giles said, sitting up straighter and instantly becoming more businesslike. "They may give us some kind of clue as to what is approaching."

"What about Maggie?" Xander asked.

Buffy glanced over at Willow. "Think you can do a tracking spell for us, Will? See if she's still in the mountains."

"Sure thing, I'll do it right away."

"Thanks."

With their assignments, the group split off into different sections of the library, leaving Giles at the main table with Buffy, Faith, Dean and Sam.

"So, what was up with little Suzy?" Faith asked Buffy.

"Just girl troubles. Time of the month, that sort of thing."

Dean cringed and stopped eavesdropping on their conversation.

"The four of you don't really need to be here for the research," Giles offered kindly. "I know how much Buffy despises it, and seeing as how you'll more than likely be the one's dealing with the demon, it may be best if you catch up on some rest."

"Oh no, it's cool, really," Sam assured him. "We do plenty of research. We don't mind helping out. Do we, Dean?"

Dean looked at his brother in disgust. "Dude, really?"

"Whatever. You guys stay here with your books and crap, I'm getting out of here. Buffy?" Faith said, standing up and stretching out her arms.

"Right there with ya. I mean, grave-digging? I'm your girl. Research? Nuh uh."

The two girls called goodbye to the group and headed towards the door. "Ooh! You know what we should do? Shoe shopping! I totally need a new pair of boots. Got demon goo all over my other ones. Have you ever noticed how demon goo is always glow in the dark..." Buffy's voice trailed off as the library doors closed behind the pair of them.

Dean folded his arms and slid down further in his chair. "How come they get to leave and I have to look at old books and stuff?"

Sam didn't reply, but brought a finger up to his lips and nodded discreetly towards one of the computers where Willow was working. Xander was sat next to her with a large unopened book resting on his lap.

"You know, once upon a time it would have been me Buffy asked to go shopping with," they heard Willow grumble to Xander.

"Yeah, well, I guess she thinks she's better than the rest of us, what with her head slayerness and all," he replied.

Dean and Sam shared a confused look. That was kinda spiteful, and weren't they supposed to be her friends?

The pair shared a couple more mean spirited comments about Buffy before they were interrupted by the sound of Andrew's loud footsteps as he stomped towards the library exit.

"Hey, where are you going?" Xander called.

Andrew stopped and span around to face him, his hands on his hips and his face an angry red. "You two! All I hear is Buffy this and Buffy that and it's never anything nice even though she does a gazillion nice things for you like making you those special cupcakes that you like and buying you an eye-patch with a little picture of Spiderman on it and saving your life and all and you're horrible friends so I'm leaving and...and...and you're way more evil than I ever was! So there!" And ignoring Willow and Xander's stunned faces, he turned back around and left the library. Seconds later, he returned, walking speedily towards Xander and snatching the book away from him and holding it to his chest like it was something precious. "And I'm taking '101 Mystical Monsters and Demons' with me!" And then he was gone.

A strained silence stretched out through the library, everyone alternating their glances between the still swinging library doors and a blushing and sheepish Xander and Willow.

After a long couple of moments, Dean climbed awkwardly to his feet, pulling Sam up alongside him and pointing his thumb towards the doors. "We're uh...we're gonna follow the little guy."

"Yeah, I just remembered that I have a laptop back at Faith and Buffy's place," Sam added as Dean dragged him away. "So I can probably just do this research stuff back there."

Giles, who seemed to have missed the whole thing, being so thoroughly consumed by the book he was reading as he was, waved them an absent minded goodbye before they scurried out of the room.

Hurrying down the corridors to the schools front door, Dean nudged Sam and muttered, "You see, this is why you shouldn't let people get to close. They'll stab you right in the back."

"I don't know, Dean. Maybe we just caught them on a bad day."

"Whatever, don't get all emotional and girly on me now, man."

Once outside, they caught up to Andrew, who had just reached the bottom of the long steps.

"Hey, Andy!" Dean called. "You need a ride."

Andrew looked relieved and let out a little giggle, looking up at Dean in admiration. "My hero," he said with a sigh. "And here I thought I was gonna have to walk."

Dean widened his eyes and backed towards the car. "Uh...yeah...hop in."

"So, what was all that about back there?" Sam, leaning over the chair to glance at Andrew, inquired some minutes later as they made the drive back to the apartment.

"What was what about?" Andrew asked dreamily, not taking his eyes away from a very uncomfortable Dean.

"With Buffy's friends? I mean, Faith said that Buffy's been friends with them for years but...they seemed kinda mean."

"Oh, that. I guess they kinda have drifted apart recently."

"Harsh."

"Yeah, a couple of years ago they had a big fight and kicked Buffy out of her own house. I wasn't there at the time. I was on a very dangerous and important mission."

"They kicked her out of her own house?"

"I think it was her sister who gave her the final push, but Dawn apologized after. So did Giles. But I guess once Buffy learned how it was to feel like an outsider she was able to relate to Faith more and they kinda bonded."

"So what? The other guys are jealous?"

"Suppose so," he replied, seemingly bored of the conversation already. "Hey, Dean? Do you work out?"


	7. Chapter 7

Stubborn

Disclaimer – Don't own anything you might recognize. They all belong to their respective owners.

Stubborn

The sky was just beginning to darken by the time Buffy and Faith arrived back at the apartment. Faith, wasting no time on friendly chit chat, grabbed a hold of Dean by the front of his shirt and dragged him away towards her bedroom, a suggestive smirk adorning her face. Dean barely had time to wink knowingly at Sam before he disappeared behind her rapidly closing door.

"Oh God," Sam groaned, flopping down onto a kitchen stool and burying his face in his hands. "It's started."

"What's started?" Buffy asked distractedly, bending over to stick her head in the fridge, looking for anything that might resemble something pre-slayage snackworthy. "Hey Sam, you want a sandwich or something?"

"Oh, yeah!" The sound of Faith's pleasured cry reverberated throughout the entire apartment.

Buffy's head shot up, crashing loudly against the roof of the fridge. Wincing, she moved away more carefully, rubbing the offended spot with her hand. "Okay, that was something I never needed to hear."

"Oh, there's more," Sam assured her regretfully.

About to ask what he meant, Buffy paused when a loud, repetitive thudding sound began emitting from Faith's bedroom. Her eyes widened in horror.

"We got kicked out of two motels because they kept breaking the beds," he admitted with a cringe. "We had connecting rooms but I could still hear them."

"And I repeat, something I never needed to hear."

"Hell yeah, big guy! Just like that!"

Sam and Buffy looked at each other in shared disgust.

"Are they always so...loud?"

Sam nodded apologetically. "The fact that we got away with it last night was a miracle. They must have been too tired after the drive up here."

As the thuds continued, and the sound of Faith and Dean's moans got louder and loader while their talk got dirtier and dirtier, Buffy awkwardly sidled back over to the fridge and closed it gently with her foot, suddenly no longer hungry.

"That's right, baby! Put it deeper! Oh yeah, that's good!"

"I'm gonna go patrol," Buffy said quickly. "Wanna come? Uh, I mean, wanna join...with me...on the patrolling?"

"Oh God yes."

"...so then Dean starts humming Metallica under his breath to calm himself down," a grinning Sam was recounting as they strolled side by side through the graveyard nearest to Buffy's apartment. "The people around us were looking at him out of the corners of their eyes like he was some kind of crazy."

She laughed delightedly and stopped walking to lean against a mausoleum wall. "I can't believe big, mean ol' Dean is scared of flying. That's just too good."

"I know, right?" Sam replied, leaning next to her. "After everything we've ever seen, that's what scares him."

Not moving from their positions against the mausoleum, they stayed that way, companionably exchanging stories about hunting and their siblings, right up until the sun had completely set and the sky had turned dark.

At a pause in the conversation, Buffy stopped to heave a faux dramatic sigh. "You can come out now," she called to the bushes to her right, before turning back to Sam. "Sorry, it's just there's been a vamp spying on us for the past five minutes, and I was trying to be all patient and wait for him to work up his little vampire courage and come out and face us, but it's getting kinda lame."

Sam smiled and raised an eyebrow in appreciation of her talents, and watched as an embarrassed vampire stood up, brushing dirt off of his shirt and pants and trying to walk out from behind the bush in a somewhat dignified manner, only to get tugged back as his shirt got caught on one of the thorns.

Buffy snorted in amusement, but didn't move from where she was leaning against the wall.

"You may laugh now," the vampire said threateningly, trying unsuccessfully to yank his shirt away from the thorns. "But you'll be begging me for mercy soon, little girl."

"Uh huh," she replied, her tone unimpressed. "Sam, you want this one?"

"Sure." He pushed himself away from the mausoleum and dug the stake Buffy had given him out of his back pocket. He'd taken barely a step forward before the vampire, finally managing to pull himself free, hissed and flew at him. Sam easily knocked him off course with a quick punch to the face. The vampire howled and stumbled backwards, covering his bloody nose with both hands, and Sam took the opportunity to kick his legs out from underneath him, before crouching down and slamming the stake through his heart.

"Well, that was...anticlimactic," he commented, accepting the hand a grinning Buffy held out to help him up.

"Fledglings. All talk, little action. That was good though. Really good. You take on many vampires?"

"Not really. I mean, my dad always told Dean and I that they were extinct, so it was kind of a surprise when Faith told us she was going patrolling for them. She showed us the basics though. You know, stake through the heart, decapitation, fire. That sort of thing."

"And you learned all that other fighting stuff off your dad, right?"

"Yeah," Sam replied, looking uncomfortable. "He was a good teacher."

"Well," Buffy said, pulling a face as she brushed a little vamp dust off of his chest. "You carry on like that and we'll make a scooby out of you yet."

Sam smiled and watched her for a moment as she finished brushing him off and then turned to continue their patrol. And then he frowned. "Wait," he called, loping after her. "What's a scooby? Is that a good thing?"

"Slow night," Buffy said with a sigh, some time later. It had been an hour since they had last come across a member of the undead, and while she and Sam had been taking the opportunity to get to know one another, she couldn't help wishing for some action. She'd been on edge ever since Sam's very annoying brother had riled her up that morning, and she'd been hoping for a good fight to calm herself down.

"Wait. What's that?" Sam asked, holding up a hand to halt their movements.

"What's what?"

"Can't you hear it?"

Buffy stilled, straining her ears for whatever it was that Sam was talking about. Now that she was listening, she too could hear the soft murmur of low, muffled voices, not far from where they were standing.

Putting a finger to her lips to signal for Sam to keep silent, Buffy led the way, tiptoeing towards the source of the noise.

Seconds later they were stood in front of an old crypt. Its door had been left wide open, and Buffy could only marvel at how much dumber the vampires seemed to be getting. They knew how freakin' close they were to a school for vampire slayers, and yet they were as rowdy as ever, not even caring to close the door to keep the noise down. It was like they wanted to be slayed.

Peering inside, she could see that the large, stone coffin in the center of the room had been moved, revealing a smallish, man sized hole. She could just spot the top rungs of a ladder sticking out of it. From the sounds of it, the vamps were right below them.

Buffy blinked, flashing back to the crypt Spike had commandeered back in Sunnydale. It was eerily similar.

She shook her head, clearing her mind of the memories, and silently indicated for Sam to follow her away from the crypt. She stopped when she was sure they were far enough away not to be heard.

"How many do you think are down there?" Sam asked.

"From the sounds of it, I'd say between ten and fifteen. I didn't get a look at them though, so I can't be sure."

"So what's the plan?"

Buffy eyed him carefully. "You sure you wanna go down there? We're outnumbered. Could be dangerous."

Sam looked straight back at her and raised an eyebrow, and she grinned and rolled her eyes.

"Hey, I had to ask," she said with a grin, before arranging her face into a serious expression. "Okay, I think our best bet is to surprise them. We'll jump down and take them by force. I doubt they're anything more than fledglings but don't let your guard down. Watch my back and I'll watch yours."

"Sounds good."

They had taken not two steps back towards the crypt when they heard a rustle from behind them and a crossbow bolt shot straight from the bushes towards Buffy's head. Her hand whipped up and caught it a mere inch before it pierced her skull.

"Nice reflexes, B!" A smirking Faith sauntered out of the shadows, a crossbow slung casually over one shoulder. A wide eyed Dean followed her, his own crossbow hanging limply by his side. "Haven't let yourself go while I've been away. I'm impressed."

Buffy grinned and threw the bolt back towards Faith, who caught it easily and pocketed it along with the others. "Nice aim. Though I gotta tell you, not much with the stealthy. I could hear you stomping through the bushes a mile away."

"Nah, did that on purpose. Didn't want you to actually go and die on me. Might get messy."

Sam was watching the two girls with wide eyes and an open mouth, his head whipping between them in a mixture of awe and horror. "You just...she just...shot...and with a...huh?"

Faith chuckled. "Chill out, Sammy boy. I was just testing her."

Still wide eyed, Sam looked over at Dean, who was shaking his head in wonder. They'd both seen Faith in action before, but that had been with the bad guys. They'd never seen her physically interact with another slayer before. It was then that Sam realized that even though Faith had literally kicked he and Dean across the room, she had still probably been going easy on them. He wondered if they'd get to see the two girls spar...

"So, what are you guys doing here, anyway?" Buffy asked. She'd kinda thought that they'd be busy for the rest of the night, judging by what she and Sam had overheard earlier. She could feel her cheeks reddening just remembering about it.

"Had some energy left to burn. We didn't realize you guys were already here. You know there's a nest back there?" she pointed a thumb somewhere vaguely behind her. "Me and Dean were just about to go deal with it when we heard you two chattin' like old timers."

"There's another nest over here," Sam informed them. "We were talking strategy."

Faith clapped Buffy on the shoulder affectionately. "Always with the planning, eh? Same old Buffy."

"Two nests in one graveyards," Buffy mused. "And I took out a big group last night. Man, I'd like to know what's going on around here. You got any other weapons on you? We've got a couple of stakes but something a little bigger might make this easier."

"Nah, we've just got stakes and crossbows. Hey Dean, why don't you give Sam your crossbow and then we're all square?"

Dean scoffed. "Have you seen the kid with one of these things?"

"But I've seen him with a gun and he's fine."

"Guns are different to crossbows. Trust me, you don't wanna put one in Sammy's hands unless you want him to accidentally shoot blondies head off."

While Buffy and Sam both frowned at the conversation that was taking place about them while they were stood right there, Faith heaved an annoyed sigh. "Jeez. Fine. Dean, you go with Buffy and I'll take Sam. Happy?"

Buffy grimaced and groaned in distaste, and Dean pouted. "I don't wanna go with her."

Faith turned to him and crossed her arms. "You know, it's just so damn sexy when you whine like a brat. Really gets me hot. And unless you want me smack that mopey expression off your face, you'll shut the hell up and get moving."

Buffy rolled her eyes, reaching forward to grab Dean by his wrist to drag him towards the crypt. "We'll meet you back here once we're done," she called back to Faith and Sam, before turning to Dean with a devilish smile. "Come on, Deano. I'll teach you how the professionals do it."

"Hey Faith, can I talk to you about something?" Sam asked, as she led the way towards the other nest of vampires.

"What's up, stretch?" Faith stopped walking and crossed her arms, leaning casually against a tree, not wanting to get too close to the nest if Sam was gonna start yapping. Man, she hoped he wasn't about to spring a heart to heart on her or nothing. No way did she wanna deal with that kinda crap. That was more up Buffy's alley.

Sam stopped in front of her and shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, rolling back and forth on the balls of his feet nervously. "I kinda wanted to ask you something about Buffy."

Faith, seeming to come to her own conclusion, smirked and punched him on the shoulder encouragingly. "You got a thing for Buff, huh? Well, no need to ask my permission. I say go for it. Girl could use a good roll in the sack."

"What?" he gasped. "No! That's not what I meant. Geez, Faith, get your head outta the gutter."

"Oh. Then this conversation just got boring."

"It's just...after you and Buffy left the library earlier today...Dean and I sort of overheard some stuff..."

"What stuff?"

"Nothing really bad, I guess. I mean, it was kinda childish. It was just her friends were saying some pretty spiteful things about her, and then we talked to Andrew and he told us that it happens a lot. And I know you guys are tight, and it's not really any of my business, but I guess I just wanted to make sure she had some kind of support."

"Off me, you mean?" she questioned, glaring at him through narrowed eyes.

Sam cringed, sensing that he had pissed her off. He knew he should have worded it differently. He wasn't even sure why it mattered. He hardly knew Buffy, and even if he did get to know her better it wouldn't matter because then he'd just have to leave. That was just the way their lives went. But he liked her. They'd connected tonight. She'd been thrust into the world of evil with no choice about it just like he'd been, and he knew how lonely it could be. He guessed he just wanted to make sure she'd be okay once they'd finished up here and left.

If Dean was there he would have told him to shut the hell up quit being such a girl.

Faith's face softened as she watched the array of emotions flit across his face, and she recrossed her arms and tilted her head to make sure he was looking at her. "Listen, Sammy. I know you get into this whole emotional crap thing, and you just wanna look after everyone and make it all hunky dory, but trust me when I tell you that Buffy doesn't need taking care of. She doesn't need me or you or anyone else coddling her. Hell, she'd probably stick you one in the nose right here and now if she even heard you talking stuff like this. And as for her friends, to hell with them. They've never understood the whole slayer gig, and they never will. But for some reason Buffy seems to like 'em. So we just gotta deal, okay? And she has plenty of support. She's got geek boy, and Giles, and her lil' sis, and me when I'm around. And there are others, okay? So stop sweating. Cool?"

Sam nodded, though he was still doubtful. But she seemed so sure and it seemed like a touchy subject and he really didn't want Faith to get mad and kick his ass. Maybe he'd talk to Buffy about it sometime.

"Right then," Faith said, seeming satisfied. "Let's go kick some demon ass."

Faith walked ahead of Sam to make sure he couldn't see her face. Sure, she'd learned how to mask her feelings over the years, but Sam was one of those touchy feely kinda guys, and she didn't want to take the chance that he'd see right through her.

Because honestly, she hardly believed the bunch of crap shed just spouted herself.

Were things really that bad for Buffy? She hadn't mentioned it, but that was Buffy for you. Too stubborn for her own freakin' good. What if she really was having a rough time, and there was Faith, swanning off and leaving her at every opportunity. And with Dawn away in England, that left her with Giles and Andrew.

Faith cracked her knuckles anxiously. Holy hell, what kind of a friend was she? She'd never even thought...

She just wasn't used to the whole friendship thing. She'd never had to think about other people's welfare before. And sure, she'd had the past couple of years with Buffy, but she'd always just taken that for granted.

Damn, she hated guilt.

Quickening her strides, she resolved that she would do something about it. Maybe they could do the whole girly chat thing? Although she wasn't sure she'd be able to stomach it. Perhaps she'd just take Buffy on a night out instead.

Reaching the manhole, she flung it aside easily and jumped straight down, landing in the middle of the vampire nest. "Hello boys," she greeted with a taunting smirk.

She grinned readily as the vampires turned and rushed her. Damn, she needed this.

"Aw, hell!" Dean choked out, as the vampire straddling him on the floor moved its fangs towards his throat.

He stretched his arm out towards where he had dropped his crossbow when the vamp had jumped him moments before, and almost yelled in relief when his fingers brushed across it. He grabbed the weapon tightly in his hand and brought it up to smash against the head of his attacker. It had the desired effect, and vamp boy was distracted long enough for him to flip it off of him. In the couple of seconds it took for the vampire to recover, he glanced down at the crossbow in his hands, wincing as he realized it had broken into pieces. Having no time left to ponder it more as the vamp came back at him, he lifted a piece with a jagged edge and rammed it into the vampires chest. It barely had a chance to register its surprise before it burst into a cloud of dust.

He rolled up onto his feet, quickly assessing the room for his next target.

There had been eleven of them as far as Dean could tell when he and Buffy had first dropped in. Buffy had thrown her stake at the first one, rendering it to dust, before pulling out another stake from her jacket pocket. He'd gotten one with his crossbow and then had a little fun pummeling another rather obnoxious vampire before staking it with one of his crossbow bolts. Buffy and he had fought back to back when the rest of the vampires had began to circle them, and together they'd managed to take out another three. He'd just had time to watch as the vampire Buffy had been fighting with turn to dust before he had been jumped.

And now Buffy was fighting against the remaining three vampires. About to step forward and join the battle, Dean instead found himself stopping to watch her in action, sensing that she didn't really need his help anyway. There was a smile on her face and she kinda looked like she was having fun. She was...damn, she was mesmerizing. He brought a hand up to rest against the wall, and watched as she span around and kicked out at the nearest vamp, sending it flying into one of its buddies. As she continued to pound into the vamps, Dean began to compare her to Faith, unable not to. Faith was good. Hell, she was amazing. But she...she just...aw crap, he didn't wanna start sounding like Sammy but she just lacked the simple grace that Buffy had. The perfected technique. Faith was good, but she was nothing compared to Buffy.

The vampires regrouped and circled Buffy. About to go and help her out, he once again stopped when she threw her arm behind her, easily staking one vamp, and then threw the same arm in front of her, staking another. The remaining vampire, looking terrified, glanced between Buffy and Dean and then back again before seeming to come to a decision and making a dash for the exit. Still without taking his eyes off of Buffy, Dean held out his arm, and the vampire ran right into his makeshift stake.

The dingy room fell silent, and Buffy looked up at Dean, an giddy smile on her face. Her cheeks were pink and her hair was a tangled mess, and she was breathing heavily from a mixture of fighting and adrenaline. The shoulder of her jacket was ripped, and she was sporting patches of dirt and dead guy dust, and Dean really hoped she didn't look down any time soon 'cause he had just the biggest hard on for her.

"That was fun." The breathy tone of her voice was not helping, and Dean shifted his legs uncomfortably. "Didn't you think that was fun?"

"Yeah, it was just dandy."

His sarcasm seemed to be lost on her, however, because her smile just widened as she came towards him. "You did good. Grazed your face a little, but you were good. Great, even."

Dean blinked in surprise. Was that an actual compliment? Were they forming some sort of truce? Should he compliment her back? Tell her how amazing he thought she was? Damn, he wasn't good at this sort of thing.

So instead he replied, "That's not all I'm good at, princess." and he winked.

Buffy scoffed. "Wow, for a minute there I almost forgot what a gigantic jerk you are."

"Whatever. You know you want me."

"I'm gonna go ahead and not dignify that with an answer." And then she turned and began ascending the ladder, leaving Dean to watch her ass as she climbed up. Shaking his head to rid himself of any thoughts that were likely to get the crap beaten out of him by Buffy and Faith, he sighed and followed, wincing as his post-fight aches began to make themselves known.

Faith and Sam were just heading back towards the meeting spot when Buffy and Dean arrived. Faith was looking satisfied, and Sam was looking exactly how Dean felt – tired and sore. He couldn't wait to go back to the apartment and crash.

"Man, that was a blast!" Faith called as she got closer. "Little guys really put up a fight. I mean, for a second there I actually thought it was gonna be a challenge."

Buffy shrugged, moving next to Faith as the two girls took the lead as they made their way towards the cemetery exit. "Nah, it was way too easy. I didn't even dent my stake, see?" she asked, holding it up for Faith to examine.

"Aw. Well, it's chipped a little," Faith consoled.

Following behind them, Dean and Sam looked at each other in bewilderment. Dean was holding onto an aching shoulder, and Sam was walking with a slight limp. Both were exhausted, and yet the two girls in front were practically skipping. Oh yeah, they'd really underestimated what a slayer could do.

"So what do you wanna do now?"

Buffy considered for a moment, before turning to answer Faith's question with a smirk on her face. "Hungry?"

Behind them, the two Winchester's groaned.

"Giles called while you were out," Andrew announced, mere seconds after the four had entered the apartment.

"He did? Why?" Buffy inquired.

"Yep. He said he figured out what that stone thingy was on the necklace you stole from that dead lady. He started to tell me and then he got all boring and English about it and I was in the middle of re-reading Harry Potter so I was a little distracted. You should probably go call him."

"Goody. I'll get right on that. I should tell him about the extra vampire activity anyway." She turned to look at Faith, Dean and Sam, grimacing when she really looked at the roughed up former two in the lamp light. "Uh, Faith will show you where the first aid kit is. I'll be back soon."

"Well, that was an incredibly boring conversation," she announced fifteen minutes later as she rejoined the others in the living room.

Faith looked up from where she was wrapping a bandage around a gash on Sam's calf. "What, you forget you were talking to Giles or something?"

"I know. I mean, I love him and everything, I do. But boy can that man talk." She heaved a weary sigh and flopped down onto the couch next to where Dean was sprawled, a beer in one hand and the remote control in the other, of which he was using to channel hop relentlessly.

"So what did the big guy want? Something up with that pendant?" Faith continued.

"Uh huh. He said it's a spirit quartz. People use it to channel their inner selves or whatever. Only this one's got a little black bit in the middle if you look real closely which Willow says means it's cursed." To her right, she heard Dean chuckle at something on the television screen, and she turned to glance at him to see what was so funny, only to stop when she caught a look at his face. "You not gonna patch yourself up?" she questioned.

He shrugged, his eyes not leaving the television. "Nah, it's not that bad. Just a scratch."

"You have dried blood down one side of your face. You don't think that's bad?" He shrugged again, and Buffy tutted. "You hurt your shoulder, right? Hurts to lift your arm up to sort your face out?" She smiled in the satisfaction on being right when his eyes whipped around to meet hers questioningly. "I saw you holding it on our way home," she admitted.

He turned his focus back to the T.V, and Buffy rolled her eyes, muttering 'big baby' under her breath and reaching for the first aid kit on the lounge table in front of her. Taking out a cotton ball, she dipped it into the bowl of warm water Faith had brought in, moving onto her knees and leaning up to grasp Dean's chin between her fingers and turn his head towards her.

From Buffy's other side, still being tended to by Faith, Sam watched on in amusement as Dean pouted, but silently allowed Buffy to clean the blood off of his face. His brother could be so freakin' stubborn sometimes. Even now Sam could see by the mixed expressions warring across Dean's face that he was grateful to Buffy for helping him out, yet refusing to allow her to see it because of their stupid feud.

"Anyway," Buffy continued over her shoulder. "Giles wanted to crack the cursed gem thingy open, study it further, you know? But Willow threatened to turn him into a toad if he did any such thing. Apparently that would be bad. So she's gonna do a few spells, see if she can figure out what curse it is. It's gotta be important somehow, if Mr Vamp was digging it up."

"You're right, that does sound like a boring conversation," Faith acknowledged as she finished placing the last bit of tape on Sam's bandage. "There, all done, champ," she told him, slapping his leg and chuckling when he hissed in pain. Turning back to Buffy, she asked, "Talking of spells, what about Willow's location spell. She find our missing slayer?"

Buffy shook her head sadly and threw the now dirty cotton ball towards the trash can. Rooting through the first aid kit, she drew out an antiseptic wipe and ripped it open. "Nope. Maggie's nowhere on the map."

"What does that mean?" Sam asked. "Is she...uh, is she dead?"

Once again, Buffy shook her head. She leaned up to brush the antiseptic wipe across Dean's graze. "No, Willow would be able to tell if she was dead. She's just-"

"Ow! Holy crap, woman! What's on that thing? Acid?" Dean cried out, whipping his head away from her touch.

"God, you're such a kid," she countered. "Stop being such a baby and let me finish."

Dean scoffed and folded his arms. "Yeah, like that's gonna happen."

Buffy sat back on her heels and raised a brow. "Fine. We'll just leave it dirty and then you'll get an infection and then your head will drop off. You know who that'd be funny for? Me."

"At least if my head dropped off I wouldn't have to listen to your annoying crap anymore."

"My annoying crap? God, self involved much? You know, maybe I should just let your head drop off, then you wouldn't spend so much time in front of the the mirror, vain guy. How long were you in the bathroom this morning anyway, like two hours?"

"What can I say, princess? Looking this good takes work."

Faith sat back in the armchair next to the couch, a grin adorning her face as she flipped her legs over the arms and crossed them. "This is great," she said delightedly to Sam as they watched the pair continue to bicker. "Like T.V but wicked funnier."

"And more absurd," Sam emitted, puzzling over how crazy his brother and new friend were being.

"I know right, I kinda feel like grounding them or something. Hey, where's Andrew? He'll be sorry he missed it."

Back on the couch, Dean and Buffy were still in the midst of their argument. "Well, I've got news for you, buddy boy-"

"Buddy boy?" Dean interrupted, accompanied by a burst of laughter. "What, are you eighty?"

"Shut up! I've got news for you, jerk face," she ignored the sound of Dean's snort. "I'm disinfecting your stupid face whether you like it or not!"

"Oh yeah, and what exactly are you gonna do?"

"I'll get you in a head lock if I have to! And you know I so could."

A bark of laughter escaped Dean's lips, until he looked at Buffy's face and saw that she was completely serious. Quickly he glanced over at Faith, who held up her hands and said, "Don't look at me, hot stuff. I'd payto see that show." and then to Sam who just grimaced and shrugged helplessly. Finally realizing that he would have no choice but to submit to Buffy's care or go through some severe humiliation, he stuck out his bottom lip and moved back towards where she could reach him, grumbling, "Fine," through gritted teeth.

Buffy beamed in the satisfaction of winning, silently adding, 'one point to me' in her head, before going back to tending to his face with a fresh wipe. She did, however, proceed more carefully, and refrained from giggling when she saw him clench his jaw to keep from wincing.

"So you were saying?"Sam encouraged, breaking the silence.

"Oh yeah. Well, Maggie's not dead. Willow would be able to tell. But she's not anywhere where Willow can find her, which means one of two things."

"What's that?" Dean asked, curiously.

"Either she's in some kind of alternate dimension, or someone's cloaking her. Either way means someone with some serious mojo. Giles and Willow think it may be the cloak."

"Damn."

"Yep."

Buffy finished cleaning Dean's face and then took it between her hands, turning it from left to right to study it. From their closeness, Dean was able to see the speckles of brown in her green eyes, and for a moment he was unable to look away.

"Huh?" he blurted out a moment later, as he realized she had been saying something.

"I said I you don't need stitches. It's pretty much stopped bleeding so we'll just tape it up. How's your shoulder doing? Dislocated?"

He shook his head. "Just sore."

After she was done, Buffy cleared up the first aid kit and moved away from Dean, and he found himself wondering why exactly he was missing her contact so much already.

"Did Giles say anything else?" Faith called out as Buffy headed towards the bathroom to put the kit away.

"Uh huh. Get this," Buffy replied upon re-entering the room. "They couldn't find anyone who matched our Louisa Abbott – you know, grave gal? So we're thinking that Louisa might have been a fake name. So they're gonna dig up her body and do some tests, see if they can get a match on her dental records or whatever those science guys do."

"That's gross." Faith stated.

"You know what else is gross?" Buffy grumbled, inspecting a lock of her hair. "When there's more vampire dust in your hair than actual hair. I'm gonna go take a shower and then hit the sack. Night Faith, Sam. You." She aimed her last word at Dean, and with a piercing glare at him, left the room.

"Man, I love that girl," Faith snickered, earning a chuckle from Sam and and the finger from Dean.

"I have summoned Hatoss," the black haired girl informed the man as she entered the dark room. She joined him by the large window, where he was stood still, watching the flashing lights of the city below. "He shall be here within the fortnight, though he will not be alone."

"Of course not," the man replied. "A man as powerful as he. Never travels anywhere alone, old dog."

The girl shivered in disgust. "I hate those creatures he commands."

He raised a mocking eyebrow. "Because they are demons?"

"Certainly not!" Her eyes widened in fright, but he merely chuckled and clucked his tongue.

"Don't worry about offending me, my dear, for I am more than any mere demon. But they frighten you, yes? They are more than you are. What are you? Not a human, not a demon. Always searching for the acceptance you will never earn." He sighed and turned to face her for the first time. "What of the pendant?"

She looked down. "The slayer has it."

She barely had chance to regard the flash of yellow in his eyes before he had her pinned against the wall, though he hadn't moved from where he was standing. "I thought I made it perfectly clear how important the pendant is to my plans." His voice was filled with a rage that shook the girl right down to the core.

Struggling against the unseen force that held her in place, she turned her pleading eyes to his. "I had over a dozen vampires on the job. She took out all of them."

It seemed to have been the right thing to say, for not a second later, the force was dropped and the girl slid down to the floor.

The man smiled delightedly. "Yes indeed. And that is why one day she will stand right by my side. But that is inconsequential for now. Right!" he clapped his hands in a business like fashion and strode over to where the girl was still hunched up on the floor and lifted her up by the arm so that she was standing in front of him once again. "New mission for you. Get my pendant back. I don't care how you do it, just get it done before Hatoss arrives. He doesn't like to be kept waiting. Fail me again," he said, patting her on the head in a friendly manner, before tracing her dark skinned cheek with one finger. "and I'll gut you with my big, shiny, silver knife."

By the time the girl dared to look up, he had vanished.


	8. Chapter 8

Misconceptions

Disclaimer – Don't own anything you might recognize. They all belong to their respective owners.

Misconceptions

"So it turns out that Louisa Abbott was a fake identity after all," Buffy explained to Dean as the two of them strolled, side by side, through the town one night on patrol. "Apparently Little Miss Corpse's real name was Juliet Anderson."

"How'd they find out? Using the teeth thing?"

It had been almost a week since they had faced that first vampire nest together, and ever since then Dean had insisted on patrolling with Buffy every night. She wasn't sure why, because aside from the occasional civilized conversation when it was absolutely necessary, they still spent most of their time bickering. She had tried to tell him she didn't need help, but still he insisted. And though she would rather eat her own tongue than admit it, Buffy was beginning to find that she didn't actually hate his company all that much. When they were getting along, he was funny and he made her laugh a lot and he had interesting stories and most of the things he said actually made sense to her, even while Sam and Faith were looking at him like he was crazy. And when they were arguing, he got her so riled up and angry and...passionate. Passionate in a way she hadn't felt in a good long time. And having someone alongside her on the lonely patrols – and a skilled fighter at that – wasn't exactly popping up on her list of Buffy's Bad Things. Loneliness never seemed to be an issue when he was around.

"No. For some really boring reason that I didn't really listen to they couldn't get anything from her dental...whatever. So they scanned her skull into this machiny thingy and used it to digitally reconstruct her facial features onto a computer."

"They actually dug her up and separated her head from her body? Now that's just gross, even for me."

"I know right, that's what I said! But then George the way too sensitive lab guy got all offended and wouldn't talk to me anymore so I had to get the rest from Willow. Scientists can be so tetchy, which is weird cause I always thought that it was artists who were supposed to be very emotional about their work, you know? Anyway, apparently they scanned her face through some database and it matched up with this Juliet girl. Same date of birth and death as on the gravestone, just a different name."

Dean was about to question her further when he felt the presence of her hand on his chest, halting his movements. Silently, she nodded her head to a point somewhere across the road. Dean followed her gaze, watching in disgust as an extremely inebriated girl was half carried and half dragged into an alley across the street by a slimy looking man. There was nothing that wasn't wrong about that situation. Either that son of a bitch was dragging her down there to take advantage of her, or he was gonna drain her dry. Man, the world was sick. Without saying a word, they sprinted across the street and dispatched what turned out to be a vampire easily, before helping the mostly unharmed girl out of the alley and into a passing taxi. Dean handed the taxi driver some money and told him to take the girl to a hospital just in case.

When he got back to Buffy, she was working hard to try and conceal her surprise. Noticing him watching her, she turned away, biting her bottom lip to keep herself from saying anything dumb or stupid.

"What?" Dean asked, his voice coming out a little aggressively as he worked hard at not staring at her mouth.

She shrugged and dug her hands into her pockets, looking a little embarrassed. "Nothing. That was just really nice of you is all. Every time I start thinking that you're just a giant ass you go and surprise me by doing something decent."

Dean eyed her carefully, searching her face to see if she was making fun of him. When her expression remained awkward and slightly uncomfortable, he had to concede that she was in fact being serious. "You getting soft on me, Summers?"

Buffy huffed, turning around to stalk away, muttering darkly about him under her breath about how much of an ass he was and how she'd spoken too soon.

Dean cringed and resisted the urge to kick himself..hard. What the hell was wrong with him? Every time she started being nice he had to go and say something stupid to piss her off and make her hate him even more. It was like he was cursed around her or something. Whenever she was around he seemed to revert back to that jerk of a twelve year old boy who was mean to a girl just because he liked her. Not that he liked Buffy. Not as in, like liked her. Because that would just be incredibly dumb. The thought of what Faith alone would do to him if he ever...just thinking about it was enough to make him wince.

Shaking his head at himself, he jogged after her. "So who was she?" he asked once he had caught up. "This Juliet chick, I mean. Who was she?"

Buffy slowed her pace down, rolling her eyes at his unspoken apology. It was there though, in the hopeful tone of his voice and the slightly widened eyes. He was just stubborn. And she could understand that, because so was she. "We can't find a lot of information about her, but she was on the list of registered witches."

"They have register lists for witches?"

"Yuh huh."

"Is Willow a registered witch?"

"Yup. I mean, she wasn't at first. But then she went through this...thing. A bad thing. I mean, I can't really talk about it." She glanced over at him to see if he understood. He did, if the slight nod of his head was anything to go by. "After every thing that happened, she went to work with this coven in England and while there she was registered officially as a witch. She's amazing, she really is. One of the highest levels."

"What level was Juliet?"

"She was high up there, too. Not as good as Willow, but she would have been a pretty powerful Wicca. Finding this out has been a pretty good lead for us. Willow contacted one of the women from the coven in England and they were able to give us more, though not much. Apparently she was in a different coven, and they were guardians of some sort."

Dean's eyebrows knitted together as he began to add things up. "Wait, guardians of the amulet, you think?"

"Well, that's where we start guessing. But it's very likely, though. And we think she may have been killed guarding the amulet, which is why she was given the honor of being buried with it."

"Wow."

"Yep."

"But we still don't know what this amulet does?"

"Nope."

"Or what your freaky shared dream thing with Faith was about?"

"Nope."

"Or even who those creepy white faced demons are?"

"Nope."

"Huh." He seemed to consider it for a long moment. "You guys suck."

By this time, they had reached the park. As far as Buffy could tell, it seemed empty. Sometimes when she patrolled the parks she would come across gangs of kids hanging out even though it was late and dark out. People could be so dumb. If it wasn't her sacred duty and all she'd totally go tell the human race to save their own butts for once, because they sure as hell didn't help make her job any easier.

As they entered through the park gates, Buffy stopped and turned to Dean, her hands on her hips and a frown on her face. "Yeah, like you guys are doing so much better? You have access to all our resources andyou said you had all those contacts. Those other hunters or whatever. And what have you come up with, huh?"

Dean scoffed and opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, trying to come back with a reasonable answer. "We're...getting there," he announced, lamely.

Buffy snorted, dismissing him and continuing their walk deeper into the park.

"It must be so much fun being right all the time, huh princess?" Dean called as he stomped after her. Where in the hell did she get off being all high and mighty with him?

Buffy once again stopped and spun around to face him. "Nope. What's fun is making you stutter like a tiny man child. Makes me giggle every time." Her playful tone was betrayed only by the anger that flared in her eyes.

"Have I mentioned today how much I don't like you?"

"Have I mentioned today how much you really need to come up with some new insults? Cause I gotta tell you, it's getting old. Ooh! Just like that piece of crap car you drive."

Dean breathed in deeply, trying to contain his fury. Man, this chick got him fired up like no one else could. And no matter what he said or did, she always freakin' bounced back with a new one. Slowly, he expelled the breath through his nose and clenched and unclenched his fists. "If you were a dude I would take. you. down."

To his enormous chagrin, Buffy burst out into loud peals of laughter. "I'm sorry," she breathed through spurts of giggles. "I'm just...it's just so funny!" She bent over and clutched at her stomach, making no effort whatsoever to hide her amusement. "You thinking you could...'take me down'," she repeated, imitating his voice.

All this time, Dean stood, stiffly and in silence, watching her through very narrowed eyes. He couldn't decide what he was more pissed about. The fact that she was stood there, blatantly laughing at him, or the fact that despite it being at his own expense, making her laugh was the happiest he'd felt all day. In the short time he'd known her, he hadn't seen her do it all that often. It brought color to her cheeks and a sparkle to her eyes and...damn it! There he went again.

And she was still laughing.

Okay, enough was enough.

Unnoticed by Buffy, he took a step forward and kicked out at her legs, swiftly sweeping them from under her.

"Oomph!" she cried out as her back hit the floor. Without moving from where she lay, she looked up at Dean in shock. "Big cheater!" She lifted herself up onto one elbow and stuck out her bottom lip.

He stood next to her and crossed his arms, a smug smirk adorning his face. "Told you I'd take you down," he drawled.

"But you cheated! I wasn't paying attention!"

He shrugged casually. "What can I say? I don't play fair."

Suddenly, Buffy's gaze switched from his face to a point behind his shoulder, and her eyes widened. "Dean, watch out!" she exclaimed.

Dean whipped around to see what was coming, slipping his gun out of its hiding place as he did so. By the time he had realized that there was nothing there, and that Buffy had in fact tricked him, it was already too late and she had kicked out from where she lay on the floor and knocked him over, much in the same way as he had done to her not a minute before. Before he even had a chance to curse, Buffy had rolled on top of him and had her stake pinned above his heart.

"I win!" she remarked sweetly. She sat up with a smug impression, but didn't move off of him, nor did she remove her stake.

Dean, while attempting to catch his breath, was trying very hard not to move. It was bad enough that she was wriggling away on top of him, unaware of the way she was affecting certain groin areas, but the fact that he could see right down her shirt while she leaned forward with her stake like that was enough to drive him almost crazy. And hell, if she didn't stop that wriggling soon then she'd become very aware. "I'm not a vampire," he croaked out. "No need to stake me."

Buffy pouted. "But if you were a vampire, I would have won."

"Who's the cheater now?"

"You're not the only one who likes to play dirty," she murmured, her voice low and seductive in a way he had never heard her use before.

Holy crap! Why did she have to start talking like that?

He didn't want her. He didn't want her. He didn't want her. If he kept on repeating the mantra in his head it would be true, right?

She let out a little gasp as he moved his hands to her thighs.

Okay, he wanted her. He admitted it. He finally admitted it. He wanted Buffy Summers, slayer of vampires, and he was pretty sure he wanted her more than he had ever wanted anyone in his whole frikkin' life. More even than that bitch of a cheerleader, Jennifer Brown, back in twelfth grade, who had refused to have sex with him for the whole month that he had attended her school, and only given it up in the end because he was leaving town the next day. At least little Jenny hadn't come attached with a whole load of super strength and a sort of but not quite, equally strong sister who would quite happily chop him up into itty bitty Dean bits if he stepped out of line because he had met her first. Damn it, he was screwed.

She went to put her stake back in her pocket, and Dean took advantage of her moment of distraction to flip her over so that their positions were reversed and she was once again on her back, and he was hovering overher. He leaned forward to pin her hands above her head, taking note of how her breath seemed to hitch as he did so. She could have pushed him off easily, he knew that. Yet she didn't. He looked down at her, but her expression was unreadable. God, he would give anything to be able to read her mind right now.

Dean forgot what he had planned on doing next. He forgot why they were on the floor. He forgot why she was on her back, why he was on top of her. He could only concentrate on one thing at a time. His eyes flicked from the slight movement of her parted lips every time she took a breath, to the flare of her nostrils, to the tendril of hair sat across her cheek. To her eyes...

Time became meaningless as they watched each other, their eyes never leaving the others', both searching for something, but neither knowing what. Their faces were only inches apart, and Dean could feel her warm breath tickle his lips.

After an eternity, Buffy finally opened her mouth to speak. He waited, with bated breath, to hear what she had to say.

"Slimy demon," she whispered.

"What?" He puzzled at her odd statement, more than a little disorientated.

"There's a slimy demon stood behind you."

Dean scoffed. "Yeah, like I'm falling for that one agai-" His sentence was interrupted when a strong, cold, slimyhand gripped the back of his jacket and yanked him up, throwing him carelessly to the ground a few feet away from Buffy. "Son of a bitch!"

Buffy rolled her eyes and reached into her boots for where she had stored her dagger. "I did warn you," she grumbled under her breath, before leaping to her feet.

After the demon had easily been dispatched and burnt – courtesy of Dean – both slayer and hunter made sure to stand a good couple of feet away from each other. Both were feeling awkward, and as they stared down at their shoes, neither was quite sure of what to say in regards of their earlier 'moment', if that was indeed what it was.

Buffy could have slapped herself. What was she thinking? Because as much as she'd like to pretend otherwise, she had totally been flirting with him! In her own weird, violent way, of course. Knocking him down, straddling him, letting him pin her down...

If only she could get the way he had been looking at her out of her mind. Like, she was the only girl in the world, in his world. And she really needed to forget how his body had felt on top of hers...

"We should go," she suggested finally, the pitch of her voice coming out higher than she had meant it to.

Dean cleared his throat. "Yeah, um...home. Your home. We should...go there." He coughed needlessly, and the two didn't move for another awkward beat.

"Right," they both said simultaneously, before turning and walking briskly back out towards the park exit.

The next day, Buffy arrived home from the school to find Sam in the living room of her apartment, watching the TV... loudly. She knew what this meant, of course. It had become almost a ritual for Sam and Buffy when Dean and Faith were being particularly loud – blast the television or find some excuse to leave the apartment entirely.

Kicking off her shoes, she checked her watch as she slid onto the sofa next to Sam. "Geez, it's only four o'clock. They get earlier and earlier each day." She leaned against Sam's side and he slipped an arm around her shoulders companionably. "What're you watching?"

"No idea," he replied. "I was trying to find your white faced demons on the net when they came in an hour ago. They've been going ever since. I tried to carry on researching but I couldn't concentrate over the noise of the TV."

"Maybe we should soundproof Faith's room," Buffy mused.

"Or ban Dean from going on patrol with you."

"How'd you figure?"

"Well he's always too tired to...you know...after he gets back from patrol, which I think is why they go at it in the afternoon."

"Ew." She shook her head. "We're thinking about their sex life way too much."

Sam made a face. "You're right. They make it hard not to, though."

Buffy nodded in agreement, and they sat in silence for a couple of minutes, watching what had turned out to be a surprisingly interesting documentary on red squirrels.

Sam felt Buffy shift, and when he turned to look at her, he noticed with some trepidation the mischievous glint that had lit up her eyes.

"Hey Sammy," she said innocently, before breaking out into a wide, naughty looking smile. "I have a wicked idea."

An hour and a half later, Dean slipped on his t-shirt and jeans and stretched his arms in satisfaction. He turned to glance at Faith, who was snoring lightly in the bed, before grabbing his jacket and heading out of the bedroom door.

"Buffy?" he called. "You ready to head out? I'm in the mood to kick some evil ass!"

There was no answer. He frowned. He knew she was in, because he could hear that annoying pop music coming from her bedroom.

"Buffy?" he repeated, banging on her bedroom door. "We gonna patrol or what?"

Her bedroom door was suddenly whipped open, and Dean found himself stumbling back a few paces in surprise.

"Holy..." he started. Because here was Buffy as he'd never seen her before. Dark, smokey, seductive eyes, red lips, tousled hair that was just dying for him to run his fingers through. Tiny, tiny dress and big, big , merciful Jesus!

"What?" she asked, when he seemed incapable of finishing his sentence.

Dean swallowed loudly, and Buffy fought hard to hold in her grin. She'd made him speechless, like, actually speechless. It had been a long while since she'd made an effort to look sexy, and damn she was glad she hadn't lost her touch.

"You um...look...you look..."

"I look what?"

He cleared his throat loudly. "Is that what you're going patrolling in?" God, he hoped not. No way was he concentrating on anything but how beautiful she looked if she went out looking like that. He'd probably end up as some vamp's bitch when he wasn't concentrating just because he couldn't keep his eyes off of her.

Buffy arranged her face into an innocent expression. "Oh, didn't I tell you?" she chirped. "Giles is taking some of the girls out on patrol tonight because he knew I had a date."

Dean's eyes widened and his face seemed to pale. "You have a date?" he blurted.

Before Buffy had a chance to answer, Sam strolled out of Dawn's bedroom, looking smart in his shirt and tie. His suit jacket hung casually over his shoulder as he sauntered over to where Buffy and Dean were stood.

"You ready to go?" he asked Buffy.

Dean's eyes whipped from Buffy to Sam and back again, widening to a comical level. "You're kidding me, right?"

Buffy took the arm that Sam held out to her and smiled up at him adoringly. "Yep. All ready," she said, ignoring Dean's splutters.

"You two are going on a date?" Dean asked loudly, his face disbelieving.

Sam looked over at Dean, a puzzled frown marring his features. "You look upset. Is something wrong?"

Dean seemed to stumble over his words for a moment, his face changing from the pale hue it had taken on to a darker red. "I'm not upset," he scoffed. "I just...what about patrol?"

Before Buffy had a chance to reexplain about Giles and the mini slayers, Faith, still dazed from sleep, stumbled out of her bedroom, coming to a confused halt when she spotted the others all seemingly gathered around in the hallway.

"Andrew making films on the crapper again?" she asked knowingly.

Dean and Sam both looked at her weirdly. "Huh?"

"Never mind." She rubbed her eyes and ran her hands through her messy hair and and stretched. "Wow, B. You look hot."

"Buffy and Sam are going on a date," Dean informed her, sounding suspiciously like he was telling on them. He watched her for her reaction, expecting to see the same disapproval that he was feeling. After all it was Buffy. And Sam. It was just...whacked up.

But Faith just chuckled and gave Sam a knowing look. "I knew you wanted to get into her pants! See, I'm never wrong about these things. It's like a gift or something." She waited smugly for the blush to spread across Sam's cheeks and the embarrassed stutter to kick in. Teasing Sam had become a favorite pastime of hers. He was just so easily wound up.

However, much to Faith's surprise, Sam just shrugged and smiled cheekily. In fact, if she didn't know any better, she would almost say he was leering. "A man's got needs," he agreed, removing his arm from Buffy's and slipping it around her waist. He pulled her against his side and slipped his hand a little lower, and Buffy...giggled!

Both Faith and Dean seemed to choke at the display, but Buffy just swatted Sam's chest playfully. "Oh Sammy, you're such a guy. What am I going to do with you?"

Sam smirked down at her, winking suggestively, before turning back to Dean and Faith. "Sorry guys, but we'd better shoot. Don't wanna miss our reservations."

Faith and Dean didn't seem to be able to close their gaping mouths, let alone form a coherent sentence, so without waiting for a goodbye, Buffy and Sam turned and moved towards the front door. Buffy couldn't resist taking one last glance behind her before they left the apartment. Neither of them had moved a muscle. "Don't wait up!" she chirped, cheerfully.

"Yeah," Sam called back to them. "We'll probably just stop off at a motel at the end of the night anyway. Don't wanna wake you guys up. I'm sure you know what I mean."

"A motel?" Dean repeated faintly.

The last thing he caught was Sam's wink before the door slammed behind him, and he and Buffy were gone.

Sam and Buffy made it all the way to the stairwell before they burst into hysterical laughter. They let go out of each other, both grasping onto the rails to keep themselves from falling over.

"Oh God," Buffy choked out. "Did you see their faces when you said that thing about having needs? You shocked Faith! I don't think that's ever happened before!"

"I know," Sam wheezed, clutching at his stomach and trying to breathe properly. "I don't know what freaked them out more. Me acting like a man whore or you giggling like a school girl."

"And not punching you in the nose. Did you see Dean change colors when we told him we were going on a date? I've never seen anything like it."

"I can't believe he actually believed us." Although come to think of it, Sam did have to wonder at Dean's reaction. He and Buffy had planned to dress up and act slutty just to mess with Dean and Faith a bit to get back at them for all the noise they made, but Dean had looked at Sam like he had wanted to beat him down or something. Like he was...hurt? And he'd been gazing at Buffy as if he wanted to devour her whole. Maybe he needed to have words with his big brother the next time they had a moment alone. "So what to you wanna do now?" he asked, once he had managed to calm himself down.

Buffy shrugged. "Well, we got dressed up all pretty. We might as well do something."

"Yeah, I didn't say it before but you look great."

Buffy grinned and slapped his arm playfully. "You don't look so bad yourself. You clean up nice."

"Thanks." Sam smiled bashfully, the tips of his ears reddening slightly. "You wanna go to a restaurant or something? Grab a bite to eat."

Buffy contemplated it for a moment. "Yay to the food, nay to the restaurant. You know what I've been hankering for all day?"

"What?"

"A burger."

"Sounds good."

"And then we can go to a bar and you can teach me how to play pool so that the next time Dean challenges me I can totally hustle his ass."

Sam chuckled and wrapped his arm around Buffy's shoulders. "You know something, I like you Buffy Summers."

"Thanks, cowboy. I kinda like you too."

It hadn't taken Faith long to get over her shock at Sam's behavior, and she was now finding herself thoroughly amused at the whole situation. "I just don't see why you're making a deal out of it," she said offhandedly to Dean as she strolled into the kitchen.

Dean huffed, stalking after her stiffly. "I'm not making a big deal!" he protested. "It's just...Sam and Buffy. Am I the only one who's seeing how wrong that is?"

"Yeah." Faith opened the fridge, looking for something to sate her hunger. After a moments search, she found the lunchbox Andrew had packed for himself for the next day. Opening it up, she removed the sandwich and put the rest of the lunch and the lunchbox back in the fridge.

"Mm, guy sure knows how to make a mean snack," she mumbled around her food after taking a large bite. She watched Dean for a few long moments as she chewed. He was leaning against the counter and his arms were crossed and he was pouting. Man, he was such a brat. She sighed, and lowered the sandwich. What was it with her having to give the Winchester boys pep talks all the time, and especially about Buffy? It was getting annoying. "Look, the way I see it, Sammy needs to let loose. Have a little fun, you know? And if Buffy's the one he wants to do it with, even better. Girl may not be as tightly wound as she used to be, but it's been a damn long time since she's had a good rough and tumble, as far as I know."

Dean heaved a sigh and said nothing. There was nothing he could say. There was no logical reason for why he was so against Buffy and Sam going on a date. Hell, he was forever trying to get the kid to go out and get laid. It was just...why did it have to be her?

Faith finished her sandwich, wiping away the crumbs and throwing the clingfilm into the trash can. "I'm going back to bed," she informed him. "You coming?"

"Nah," he replied, waving a hand distractedly. "I'm not tired. I think I'll head out and do a quick sweep on my own."

"I thought you said that Buffy told you Giles were taking some of the mini me's out tonight?"

"Yeah, but-"

"If the slayers are out, then trust me when I say they're not gonna want you around. We try to look after them until we think they're ready to head out there on their own, but they're dying for some action. They have all these new super powers and they just wanna use them. And having a hunter get there first ain't gonna make them happy. Now when I say I'm going to bed, I don't mean to sleep, you get me?" Without waiting for an answer, Faith flicked her hair and sauntered back towards her bedroom, making sure to wiggle her butt enticingly.

Dean sighed again, and with one last accusatory glare towards the front door, he slipped of his jacket and made to follow Faith.

"Okay, I gotta tell you something," Buffy started, as she and Sam both slid themselves and their drinks down into a tight booth in a seedy looking bar. "I'm not a big drinker. Seriously. Don't let me have more than like, two of these." She pointed down to her beer.

Sam chuckled, loosening his tie and pulling off his jacket. "You can't be that bad."

Buffy looked at him and raised a single, challenging brow. "Oh, I really am. Bad things happen when Buffy drinks. Bad, bad things."

Sam laughed again and sipped at his beer. "I'm not much of a big drinker either. I usually only have one or two or I'll end up feeling crappy in the morning. Dean though, he could clear out the bar and still wake up fresh as a daisy."

Buffy snorted and shook her head. "And that just doesn't surprise me at all."

During their first beer, they chatted some more about hunting and the supernatural forces they'd come across.

During their second, they talked a little more about their families.

During their third, Sam felt loosened up enough to finally bring something up that had been playing on his mind ever since the night that Faith and Dean had woken him up and told him that they were heading to Cleveland.

"Buffy...how long have you...uh, had those...psychic dream things? I mean, have you always had them?"

She shook her head. "No, I only started getting the slayer dreams after I was called. I guess prophetic dreams come with being the prophecy girl and all."

"Oh...right. Do you get them often?"

"Sometimes I can go a whole year without one. They come as warnings, I suppose. So I can stop whatever big bad is coming for me next."

This didn't seem to be the right thing to say, because Sam's whole face dropped, his shoulders sagged and he tipped the beer bottle to his mouth and downed it in three long swigs.

Buffy's eyes narrowed in curiosity. She reached out to place a soothing hand on Sam's. "Sam, are you okay? Why are you so interested in my dreams?"

"It's nothing."

"It's clearly something." He voice was low and she spoke softly. "Look, don't tell me if you don't want to. But if there's something eating on your mind, you should talk to someone. Keeping things locked up inside is never good for anyone. Trust me, I've been there. You'll get so full of it that you'll end up exploding." Her eyes glazed over for a moment as she drifted off into a distant memory, and she pulled her face into a grimace. "Of course, back in high school that was entirely possible..."

"Huh?"

"Never mind."

Sam watched her for a long time, his face indecisive. He didn't seem about to speak, so Buffy busied herself with finishing off her third beer, sipping it slowly and sporadically. He still hadn't seemed to make his mind up by the time her bottle was empty.

Finally, he seemed to come to some sort of conclusion.

"My girlfriend, Jess...she died not so long ago."

Dean had told Buffy about Sam's girlfriend. How she had been killed in a fire, and how they suspected it was caused by the same demon that had killed their mother. The same demon they and their father had been chasing ever since. "I'm sorry."

"Thank you. But that's not...I...I had...there was..."

"There was what?"

He slipped his fingers from hers and buried his face in both of his shaking hands. "Buffy, I had dreams. Before Jess died, I dreamed it would happen. Over and over again. And I never did anything. I could have stopped it! I could have stopped it and I never did."

Buffy felt her heart break for him. For all the hard, raw pain she could hear in his voice. And then came the shock. Sam had psychic dreams? That was strange. But shock wasn't what he needed right now. "How could you have stopped it, Sam?" she asked, trying to make him see reason.

"I should have told her. About me, about what I do. About demons. If I had, she might have..."

"Might have what?"

He dropped his hands to the table and looked at Buffy, his face betraying the expression of a broken man. "I don't know."

Buffy stood and moved over to his side of the booth, sliding herself in beside him. She placed both of her hands on his large shoulders and shook him a little to force him to face her. "Look at me Sam. It was not. your. fault. I know what happened, and you can't blame yourself, okay."

"But you said it yourself, you get the dreams so that you can stop the bad guys. I got the dreams and I did nothing."

"I get the dreams because I'm the slayer. It's my duty to protect the world. And I don't know why you get them, Sam. I guess...some people are just different. But you need to stop feeling so guilty. Because it'll kill you." He nodded, but she knew he wasn't convinced. Not by a long shot. "Have you spoken to Dean about this?"

"No. He wouldn't understand."

"You should. You can't hide something like this from him. You know he'll find out eventually, and he'll be pissed that you kept it from him for so long."

"I know. I know I should tell him. And I will. Just...not yet."

They sat in a contemplative silence for a long time, both staring at their empty beer bottles as they each thought about the implications of their conversation.

"Thank you," Sam said finally.

"It's okay."

"No really. I haven't...I haven't told anyone before. It feels good to talk to someone, you were right."

"Thank you for telling me."

"I hardly know you and I feel like I can trust you."

"You can trust me."

They smiled at each other, before Buffy giggled and tapped her empty beer bottle. "Okay, I think this stuff is making us get all sappy."

"You're right. We should get some more to make it go away."

During the fourth beer, they confided in each other about their previous relationships.

During their fifth, they came up with some more suggestions on how to shut Faith and Dean up. Some were outrageous, most just silly.

During their sixth, Sam tried to teach Buffy how to play pool. But by then, he'd pretty much forgotten how to play himself.

During their seventh, they were kicked out of the bar for disturbing the other customers with their rambunctious behavior.

Dean's eyes snapped open when he heard the front door slam closed, followed by a loud shush and a set of male and female giggles. He looked over at the alarm clock on the bedside table. Two thirty am. Well at least they hadn't gone to a motel.

He heard the two stumble down the hallway and enter Buffy's bedroom, before that door slammed closed too.

"Damn," Faith mumbled drowsily. "What's with all the noise?"

"Buffy and Sam are back. They're in Buffy's room. Together."

"Well ain't that that just dandy." And then she closed her eyes and rolled back over. Dean wished it were that easy for him.

He had never realized how thin the walls were before. Funny. He heard the sound of the springs in Buffy's bed screeching, before Buffy herself let out a little squeal and a loud thump sounded. Dean's face screwed up in horror as he heard his brother moan and the little gasping sound she made.

"Holy crap, Sammy! That's huge! Where in the hell do you hide that thing?"

Faith swiftly rolled back over and she sat up, smirking delightedly. "This just got a whole lot more interesting," she whispered.

Dean groaned almost silently and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, wishing he could be anywhere else in the entire world than than in the room right next door to that of his brother and the girl he'd been fantasizing about for the past week as they got down and dirty.

"I usually just tuck it in the back so it doesn't bulge out. I don't want people to notice it and stare, you know? It might freak them out."

Faith was in fits of silent laughter. "Boy," she breathed. "Guess I picked the wrong brother."

Dean glared at her and pulled his pillow out from underneath his head to stick over his face, desperate for anything to muffle the noise.

"God, it's so hard."

"I'm sorry, Buff. Did I hurt you?"

"A little, but I'm fine now." There was a short silence before Buffy's voice could be heard again. "Now it just feels good!"

"Please shoot me," Dean begged, his voice sounding muffled from under the pillow.

Faith just snorted and flopped back down, her chest still aching from trying not to laugh too loud,

"You like that?"

"Uh huh. It's been ages since I've even seen one of these. Let alone touched one."

"We're really drunk, maybe I should put it away..."

"No! I wanna play with it."

"Seriously?" Dean moaned to himself. He wondered how long this torture was going to last.

Faith snored next to him, already having fallen back asleep. Why couldn't he fall asleep?

"Hold on a sec, let me just...safety precaution, you know?"

Well at least Sam was using a condom.

"Gotta tell you, the last time one of these were inside me, I didn't like it all that much."

Dean heard Sam mumble something else, but his voice was too quiet for him to make out the actual words. And then Buffy spoke up again.

"Yeah. I'll tell you another time. When we're not...you know...Hey, am I doing this right?"

"Perfect. Well, a little higher maybe...yeah, that's good..."

Suddenly, another door slammed loudly in the apartment, and Dean heard heavy footsteps stomp down the hallway. Faith's door was flung open, and Dean was already reaching for the gun he kept under his pillow before he realized it was just Andrew stood in the doorway in his onesie, his blanket wrapped around his shoulders and his pillow tucked under his arm. "I'm going to Giles' house!" he announced hotly, before turning and storming out of the apartment, yelling, "I can't stand all this sexy madness!" as the front door closed behind him.

Dean huffed, rolling out of bed to cross the room and close the bedroom door.

Five long minutes passed in complete silence. And then five more.

Dean grinned, and settled himself more comfortably into bed. It seemed the geek had managed to embarrass Buffy and Sam into shutting the hell up. And damn if that wasn't alright by him.

14 MINUTES EARLIER

After several tries, Buffy finally managed to fit her key into the apartment front door.

"I think I'm drunk," she slurred to an equally inebriated Sam.

"Me too!" he replied excitedly.

They burst into laughter at their own hilarity and fell into the apartment. Buffy slammed the door behind them.

Hafta close the door to keep the monsters out, she reminded herself.

"Ssh!" Sam warned, before breaking out into an infectious set of giggles.

Not knowing what it was that was so funny, Buffy giggled as well, and the two stumbled down the hallway to Buffy's room, each needing to grab onto the other to keep themselves from tripping. Buffy threw herself onto the bed while Sam closed the door. A second later, he followed her, but in this drunken state, he misjudged his landing and ended up top of her legs, before slipping off the bed entirely – taking a squealing Buffy with him. They landed on the floor with a loud thump.

Sam moaned as his head banged against the floor, and Buffy gasped in pain as a hard object jammed into her thigh. With a wince, he rolled off of her and pulled a gun out from his back pocket, apologetically showing her what had caused her the pain.

Buffy's eyes widened. How on earth had she not noticed he'd been carrying around that all night? "Holy crap, Sammy! That's huge! Where in the hell do you hide that thing?"

He helped her up back onto the bed. This time they managed to stay on.

"I usually just tuck it in the back so it doesn't bulge out." He showed her how usually hid it with his jacket. "I don't want people to notice it and stare, you know? It might freak them out."

Buffy once again rubbed the spot on her thigh where she had landed on it. A small, dark bruise was already beginning to form. "God, it's so hard."

"I'm sorry, Buff. Did I hurt you?"

"A little, but I'm fine now." She leaned over and plucked the gun out of his hands, holding it up and pretending to aim. "Now it just feels good!" she joked.

Sam chuckled quietly at the expression on her face. It was a mixture of a childlike excitement and a dazed befuddlement as she drunkenly tried to get her eyes to focus. "You like that?"

"Uh huh. It's been ages since I've even seen one of these. Let alone touched one." She lost her balance and fell into Sam. Her gun hand swayed dangerously and he couldn't help but wince.

"We're really drunk, maybe I should put it away..."

"No! I wanna play with it."

Sam relented, not really able to deny her when she was doing that cute sticky out lip thing. "Hold on a sec, let me just..." He took the gun out of her hands and emptied it of the bullets before handing it back to her. "Safety precaution, you know?" He held up his hand and showed her the bullets.

Buffy stared at them for a long time, a moment of past pain flickering in her eyes. "Gotta tell you," she said finally. "The last time one of these was inside me, I didn't like it all that much."

"You were shot?" Sam asked quietly, his face sympathetic. Damn, he sure knew how much that sucked.

Buffy seemed to shake herself out of the little daze the bullets had caused her to fall into, and plastered a smile and a blasé expression on her face. "Yeah. I'll tell you another time. When we're not..." She waved a hand between the two of them and mimed drinking out a bottle, unable to remember the word 'drunk'. "...you know." Once again, she lifted the gun to the air with both hands, squinting through one eye as she pretended to aim at an unknown subject. "Hey, am I doing this right?"

"Perfect." Sam nodded, and then shook his head. And then he stopped moving his head altogether because it was making him feel very dizzy. "Well, a little higher maybe..." He watched as she followed his instructions. "Yeah, that's good." And then he fell back against the bed and snored.

At the same time, Buffy heard a door slam somewhere in the apartment and Andrew yell something about Giles. Buffy looked at Sam, and then at the gun in her hand, and back at Sam again. Sighing, she placed the gun carefully on her bedside table, before crawling off the bed and lifting up Sam's legs so they weren't flopping over the side. She moved him onto the bed properly, and then removed his shoes.

Geez, she thought as she held one of them up. It was almost as long as her forearm.

Happy that her work was done, Buffy switched of the bedroom light and staggered around to the other side of the bed and dropped onto it, hoping that if she laid still for long enough, the spinning in her head would go away.

27 seconds later, she was fast asleep.


	9. Chapter 9

Imperium - Part One

Imperium – Part One

The next morning, Buffy awoke to a tangle of long limbs and a face full of messy, brown hair. "Oh God," she groaned, as the thumping in her head began to make its presence known. She tried to sit up, but her progress was hampered by the large arm slung casually across her upper body. "Sam," she called, maneuvering herself so that she could poke him in the shoulder. "Sam, wake up."

He shifted a little and moaned loudly, bringing one of his hands up to cover his face. "Tolyouishundrinsomch," he mumbled.

"Huh now?"

"Told you I shouldn't drink so much. Think I'm dying." He removed his hand from his face and placed it onto his stomach before turning over and burying his head in a pillow. "No, I know I'm dying."

"Ugh. Me too. I can't decide what feels worse, my head or my stomach."

"Good."

"Gee, thanks Sammy. Are you such a charmer with all the girls or am I just special?"

Sam, lifting up to look at Buffy, blushed and shook his head, bringing on another round of painful groaning. When the banging between his ears had been reduced to a quiet thumping once more, he explained, "No, I just meant that I'm glad I don't have to suffer alone."

Buffy, deciding that that wasn't much more gentlemanly, huffed and squeezed her eyes shut, desperate for the churning in her stomach to stop. "Uh, Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Your leg is kinda...in-between mine."

"Oh!" His blush intensified, spreading right down to his neck and to the tips of his ears. He swiftly removed the offending leg and the arm that he had discovered draped across her stomach. "God. Sorry, Buffy. Uh...sorry. I didn't mean to...you know..."

She giggled, and reached a hand over to pat his shoulder comfortingly. "Sam, chill out. We were dunk, we fell asleep, we got tangled. No need to be embarrassed."

His mind eased with the knowledge that she didn't think him some sort of pervert, and Sam leaned his head back and chuckled. "Man, we were pretty out of it last night. I can't believe we got kicked out of two bars."

"Three."

"Nah. Last one didn't count. The doorman wouldn't even let us in. Said we were too drunk and then when we tried to get in anyway he carried you out over his shoulder and dragged me by the collar of my shirt."

"God, how humiliating. At least we didn't fight back. Could've done some real damage." She thought for a moment about her clumsy, drunken state. "Or not."

They laid in comfortable silence for another few minutes, before Buffy began opening and closing her mouth experimentally. "Dry mouth," she claimed, when she caught Sam looking at her oddly out of the corner of his eye.

Discovering his own dry mouth, Sam thought longingly about the kitchen and the nice, cold glass of water that was awaiting him there. If only he could remove the jellied feeling from his legs. "We should probably get up."

Buffy rolled over. "Blah. Getting up is for losers."

"Don't you have to teach a class today?"

Buffy's eyes widened and she scrambled into a half way sitting position, ignoring how nauseous it made her feel. "Crap! What time is it?"

He lifted his watch arm to his face and squinted. With his hangover induced headache, he was finding it difficult to make out the blurred numbers. "Just past nine."

Heaving a sigh of relief, Buffy flopped back down on the bed and flicked Sam's ear playfully. "My class isn't 'till twelve, silly. Don't scare me like that." She massaged her closed eyes with the tips of her fingers, grumbling when she felt the remainders of the makeup she had forgotten to take off the night before. "Ew. I need to take a shower. Badly."

"Me too," he agreed. "You go first and I'll make us some coffee." He squeezed his eyes closed as his head gave a particularly hard thud. "And some painkillers."

"Thanks," she returned gratefully. "There should be some under the sink in the kitchen. I leave them there for Faith for when she gets...you know...like this."

"Okay. Right. Getting up," he said, after a long minute of silent preparing. He braced himself for a moment, and then took a deep breath and rolled over towards the edge of the bed, desperately hoping he wasn't about to throw up all over Buffy's floor. Happy to have achieved his first task, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and lifted himself into a seated position using his arms as support. Finally, he managed to push himself up so that he was stood on his wobbly two legs. "Whoa, dizzy," he mumbled, reaching one arm out for the wall as he swayed.

Buffy, having gone through all the exact same motions on the opposite side of the bed, took a moment to right herself before stumbling around her room, searching for her shower things. Gathering them, she followed Sam out of the door and watched him head down into the kitchen before she turned into the bathroom, thanking God that she hadn't bumped into Faith or Dean so far this morning. She definitely needed to clear herself up before facing the teasing that she was sure to come if they had any idea about their drunken exploits the night before.

Sam had been nursing his rapidly cooling cup of coffee for ten minutes before his brother entered the kitchen. "Morning," he greeted weakly.

After Dean didn't reply, he turned to look at the silent man, who was staring at him right back, his expression sullen and accusing.

"What?" a perplexed Sam inquired.

Dean pulled a face Sam hadn't witnessed since they were both grumpy teenagers and shrugged his shoulders defiantly, turning away and stomping over towards the cupboards. He opened one with a bang, before slamming it shut and repeating the action with two others. Sam wondered what it was he was looking for, or if he was even looking for anything at all.

"Dude, are you pissed or something?"

Dean slammed another cupboard shut and span around to face Sam. "No," he answered hotly. "Why would I be pissed?"

"I don't know, that's why I'm asking."

"Well I'm not!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

"Well you're clearly not fine!"

"Jesus, Sammy! Drop it."

"Maybe I would if you'd stop slamming around the place!"

"Whoa, guys! Time out." The two brothers stopped their bickering and turned towards the kitchen doorway, where a puzzled Faith was entering, followed by an ill looking Buffy. "What's with all the noise? One of you kids drop your ice pop?"

"No real reason," Sam explained. "Dean's just being a jerk."

Buffy snorted and rolled her eyes. "Color me surprised," she muttered.

Dean mumbled something unintelligible under his breath and went back to searching through the cupboards. Buffy moved over towards Sam, who handed her a couple of aspirin pills and a glass of water.

"Thanks." Buffy popped them in her mouth and gulped at the water, swallowing it and letting out a relieved sigh. "Boy, I can't wait for those to kick in."

"So," Faith started, sitting herself down on one of the kitchen stools and giving Buffy and Sam a knowing smirk. "You guys have fun last night?"

Buffy and Sam looked at each other, remembering the the alcohol – the bad badness of the alcohol – and groaned simultaneously.

Dean stopped pretending to be looking for something and hoisted himself up onto the kitchen counter – ignoring the disgruntled glare that Buffy shot him – as he became very interested in what the pair had to say. He crossed his arms and looked at Sam with a raised brow. "Yeah, you got in late last night, Sammy. Upset little Andy with all your dirty talk." He waggled his eyebrows. His tone was playful, but there was also a hint of venom in there too.

Buffy's forehead creased together as she tried to figure out what he meant. "Where is Andrew, anyway? He's usually up by now. And what dirty talk?"

"Oh Sam! It's just so big and hard!" Dean mimicked in a high pitched voice. "Wherever shall I put that thing?"

"What? What are you talking about? When did I say that? I never said that! And my voice does not sound like that."

Dean grinned and continued, lowering his voice just a touch. "Ooh Buffy! That's right! Just like that."

"Damn, that was some hot stuff last night," Faith added. "Almost couldn't get back to sleep."

Sam and Buffy glanced at each other again, bewildered looks adorning their faces. What the hell were Faith and Dean talking about? Buffy stretched her mind back to the night before, wondering when they could have possibly come to this conclusion. She knew that Sam had joked about stopping off at a motel, but it wasn't like they had actually gone through with it.

She shook her head, trying to remember. They had stumbled in, fallen on and off of her bed, played with Sam's gun. She could barely remember their conversation but she was pretty sure there hadn't been any dirty talk...

...wait.

They had played with Sam's gun.

Well that alone sounded dirty enough.

She stifled the sudden urge to laugh. No, she couldn't remember what had been said between she and Sam the night before but clearly there had been some kind of a misunderstanding.

Not willing to let Faith and Dean get one up on them, she sidled over to Sam and slipped onto his lap, sliding her arms around his neck and kissing his his ear. "Play along, Sammy," she whispered. Louder, she let out a defeated sigh. "Well, they caught us, Sam. How very embarrassing."

"Ha!" Dean taunted smugly, pointing at the two of them with an accusing finger. "I knew it! Damn, you two were loud enough to force poor Andy out of the apartment. That's just naughty."

Sam slipped an arm around Buffy's waist and rested his chin on her shoulder. "Wow guys, we're really sorry. Did we wake you with all the noise we were making? How incredibly inconsiderate of us, huh Buffy?"

Neither Faith nor Dean seemed to catch the sarcasm in Sam's voice, and neither did they notice the irony.

"Whatever, just keep it down from now on," a completely oblivious Faith answered kindly. "I'm all for you guys getting your happies with each other but I need to catch my z's, you know?"

"I hear ya," Dean muttered.

Sam and Buffy could only watch the pair of them in disbelief, each wondering how two people could be so smart and yet so...dumb.

Buffy sighed and slid herself off of Sam's lap, grumbling to herself under her breath as she left the kitchen to get ready for work.

Later that afternoon after she had completed her lessons, Buffy was sat at her office desk in the school when there was a sharp rapping on her door. Without looking away from her lesson notes, she called at whoever it was to enter.

"Good morning, Buffy," Giles greeted as he pushed open the door, before sitting himself down opposite her on the other side of the desk.

"It's afternoon, Giles," she replied distractedly. She sighed and put down her notes and looked up at her old watcher. "Hey. Did Andrew stay at your place last night?"

Giles let out a disgruntled huff and nodded. "Yes. Turned up at half two in the bloody morning, inconsiderate fool. Mentioned something about not being able to sleep over all the noise." He blushed while giving her a pointed look. "He also said something about you and the younger Winchester boy, Sam?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. Great. With the way Andrew blabbed, the rest of the school should be hearing about what had not happened last night right about now. Keeping secrets in this place was like trying to keep a wasp trapped inside a bubble.

She was about to set him straight when she noticed him shift awkwardly in his chair. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, clearly trying to say something, though obviously having difficulties on quite how to do it.

"Spit it out, Giles," Buffy demanded eventually, leaning back in her chair and narrowing her eyes.

He sighed. "Do you...do you think it wise getting involved with a Winchester? I only ask because I worry about you and I know that he'll be leaving once we have found and destroyed the demon that caused you and Faith to share one of your slayer dreams. And I know that Faith is..." He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "...involved with his brother, but Faith is...uhm...happier with casual...oh, I'm really not saying this right. What I mean to say is that...is that..."

"Giles, I didn't sleep with Sam." She decided to put him out of his misery before he really said something they'd both regret.

Giles blushed and seemed to lose his voice for a moment. "I never said...oh dear...I..."

"Now we've established that fact, can we change this very uncomfortable subject?"

He slumped down his chair in relief. "Oh yes, please do."

"Right. Did you come by my office for a reason? Or just to ask me about my love life? Or lack of."

"Oh! Yes, actually. There was a reason. I wanted to know whether your contact could spread any further light on the pendant?"

Buffy frowned. "What contact?"

"The one you said you were taking the pendant to last night. You said you were going to show it to him and he was going to see if he knew anything about it because he was an expert on mystical gemstones."

Buffy's heart began to beat rather uncomfortably in her chest as she realized that something was seriously wrong here. "Giles, what are you talking about? I never said that. I never took the pendant anywhere."

"You did! Last night! You called me up at six in the evening – I remember because I was just about to sit down for my evening meal – and asked me to meet you in town with the pendant. And then we met up and I gave you the pendant and I left because your contact wanted to meet you and only you. Remember?"

"No! Giles, I was with Sam last night. All night. As soon as I left the school I went home, I got ready, and then Sam and I went out. I didn't speak to you at all!"

Giles' eyes widened and his face drained of color as the repercussions of the situation dawned on him. "Oh, bloody hell."

An hour later, everyone had gathered together for an emergency meeting in the school library, and Giles and Buffy were explaining about the Buffy lookalike and the stolen pendant.

"Is it the First?" Xander asked shakily. "Is the First back? Because if it is then let me be the first to say a big Oh God!"

"No, Xander, it's not the first," Giles was quick reassure him, because he was certain it was on a few people's minds. "Though a valid question, I am – without a doubt – certain that it is not the First. I distinctly remember touching Buffy's hand whilst handing over the pendant, and when somebody jostled me on the street she grasped my shoulder to keep me from falling."

"And what's with that, anyway?" Xander continued. "Handing the pendant over to some unknown?"

Giles looked affronted. "I thought it was Buffy! She was exactly the same. Talked the same, acted the same, looked the same. Everything."

"Maybe it was another Buffybot?" Willow suggested.

"No." Giles looked strained as he continued. "After spending so much time with the Buffybot...that summer...I am more than capable of distinguishing between a robotic version of Buffy and a human version. The Buffybot had a certain...forced way of being. This Buffy seemed human enough to me. I just can't imagine who or what it was."

"What's a Buffybot?" Dean asked.

Buffy, Giles, Xander and Willow glanced at each other and grimaced.

"Uh...I'll explain later," Buffy promised.

Truth be told, the Buffybot brought back bad memories for all of them. It reminded them of Sunnydale at it's worst. Warren, and Tara's death, followed by Willow and her evil, grief ridden rampage. Badness all around. And lots of it. And there was just no way they any of them wanted to bring it up again in a big group discussion. But Buffy would tell Dean. He'd earned it. He and Sam had been completely honest about their past, and willing to jump in and help the moment they were asked. And so Buffy would tell him. Just...later. When they were in private. Oddly enough, when they were alone together seemed to be the only time the two were able to talk with any civility anyway.

"Maybe Buffy's got an identical twin sister she didn't know about?" Andrew suggested. Everybody simultaneously turned to look at him, stupefied expressions on their faces. "What?" he asked with a shrug of his shoulders. "It happens. Maybe you were unwittingly swapped at birth and your identical twin sister has been living with the real Buffy Summers all these years, thinking that they were nonidentical twins, and now she's finally found out the truth and she's getting revenge on you by stealing your stuff."

There was a long silence at the table as everybody tried to make sense of what he had just said, before Faith dismissed Andrew's ridiculous idea by saying, "Or not."

Andrew sat back in his chair and crossed his arms and stuck out his lower lip.

A couple more ideas were thrown about the table, though none that seemed to make any particular sense. The occupants, Buffy especially, were becoming more and more agitated as no answer seemed to come forth.

And then a switch flicked in Sam's brain, and he could have kicked himself for not thinking of it sooner. "Shape-shifter!" he voiced excitedly.

The rest of the table glanced at him, regarding his outburst a little doubtfully. Dean was the only one who nodded his head in agreement, comprehension dawning on his face.

"A shape-shifter?" Kennedy was the first one to speak up. "What the hell is that?"

"It would explain how it knew all of Buffy's traits," Dean mused. "Although from what I remember Dad telling me, shifters are known to just cause needless destruction."

"So why would it take Buffy's form?" Sam wondered, thoughtfully.

"Whoa whoa whoa," Buffy broke in impatiently. "Back up here a second. Explainy for the people who have no idea what you guys are talking about, please?"

Before Sam and Dean had a chance to indulge her, Giles pushed out his chair and stood up. "Of course," he muttered to himself. He moved over to one of the bookshelves and skimmed through them before murmuring, "Aha!" in satisfaction and sliding one out.

At the same time, Dean twisted around to get the jacket he had flung carelessly over the back of his chair and reached into one of the pockets to pull out his father's journal. He slapped it down on the table in front of him and flipped through it until he found the page on shape-shifters "Our dad faced one of these when we were kids," he informed the other occupants of the table. "They not only take on your appearance, but your identity, your personality, down to all your annoying habits. They somehow know your past, the way you think, even your past thoughts."

"Yes," Giles chimed in, leafing through the book as he returned to the table. "And although it is easier for them if they keep the person they are impersonating alive, it isn't necessarily vital." He placed the open book down on a table and they all leaned forward to take a look.

A collective 'Ew!" came from all who were close enough to see it. On the page that Giles had pointed to was a drawing of a man on his knees. His face wore the expression of agony as he literally ripped the skin off of his body in great, seeping chunks.

"So that's the shape-shifter?" Buffy queried, after she had sat back and collected herself. It was things like that that did not help towards her still recovering stomach.

"That's an example of a shape-shifter, yes. There is no the shape-shifter. Like many demons, there are more than one," Giles corrected..

"Right. So back to Sam's question. Why did this shape-shifter uh...shift into me? And why did she...it...trick you into giving her the pendant?"

"Maybe she's the big bad our dream was warning us about," Faith suggested.

Giles shook his head. "Unlikely. A Shape-shifter alone wouldn't pose much of a threat, especially to a slayer. They're only about as strong as your average vampire, I'd say. And all it takes to kill them is a silver bullet or knife through the heart."

"She could be working with someone," Andrew offered. "Or what if someone hired her. Do people hire shape-shifters? I bet they could make a lot of money. They'd be like, the coolest secret spy ever!"

Sam frowned. "I've never heard of a shifter working with or for anyone before. As far as I know they're supposed to be quite solitary. They work alone. And they're not exactly the evil minion type."

"Evil minion," Giles repeated absentmindedly, before his eyes widened comically. "Evil minion! Of course!" Once again, he leaped up out of his chair, ignoring the way the others winced as its legs scraped against the floor with a loud screech. Muttering quietly to himself, he headed back over to the bookcases, scanning the shelves quickly until he found what he was looking for. He slipped the book out and hurriedly skimmed through it as he resat himself back down in his seat.

Willow, the only one still paying him any attention, watched him with a worried expression, silently wondering whether he was getting quite enough sleep.

"Oh my," he blurted finally.

But everyone else, too taken up with their own separate conversations which had formed whilst he had been busy browsing the shelves, barely even noticed him as they speculated amongst each other about this recent turn of events.

"Oh my!" he repeated, louder this time.

Yet again, no one but Willow paid him any attention.

He picked up the heavy book and slammed it down hard on the table. "I said oh my!" he shouted.

The room became silent as heads all swiveled to look at the older man with raised eyebrows and entertained expressions at his small hissy fit.

"I think we broke him," Xander whispered to Buffy.

Buffy snorted, trying to hide her amusement at his joke, before calming herself and becoming serious before she turned back to Giles. "Are you okay?" she asked. "What's wrong?"

Without saying anything, Giles turned his book around and pushed it forward so that both Buffy and Faith could see the page that had caused him so much distress.

"Oh!" Buffy exclaimed.

"Holy crap! Those are the weird little white faced guys we saw in our dream!" Faith added excitedly as she studied the picture.

Giles rubbed his forehead with both of his hands in distress. "I feel like such an idiot," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "How can I have not thought to look in there before. All this time I've been concentrating on these demons as our main villains when really..."

"They're just the lackeys," Buffy finished, as she read the inscription next to the picture of the demon. "The evil minions."

"So the demons that Buffy and Faith saw in their prophetic dream are just hired hands?" Rana concluded. "Which means that although formidable, they are not our real problem. Whoever it is that hired them in the first place is the one we need to keep on guard for." She shook her head in thoughtfully. "But however do we learn who that is?"

"We don't need to," Giles announced grimly, pulling the book back towards him. "Buffy and Faith's white faced demons are a man made breed called the Tababton. They were created over half a century ago."

"Man made?" Vi looked horrified at the though.

"They were once men, until their bodies and minds were corrupted. Ordinary men, stolen away from their families in the dead of night and locked away in dank caverns and caves deep underground. At least, that's how the tales go. Once taken, they were put through trials, and promised freedom once they were completed, which was a complete falsehood of course. The trials were so horrific that the men slowly became insane, and the things their bodies endured corrupted them somehow. And at the end of the trials – if they were still alive – they, now barely even human, were force fed some kind of magic potion, which bound them to their captor and prolonged their lives."

"God!" Kennedy sounded disgusted, which mirrored the rest of the groups feelings accurately. "Who the hell did this to them? 'Cause whoever it was, seriously needs to die a painful and gruesome death."

Giles expression darkened and his voice lowered considerably. "Hatoss."

The dark skinned girl grinned in delight as she held the pendant up to her eyes to take a closer look. It was so pretty. So shiny. And filled with such...darkness. It made her skin positively tingle. He would be very pleased with her for getting it back. Maybe he would reward her? Probably not.

She heard a low, delighted chuckle from behind her and span around. And there he stood. The room had been empty not a second before, and the door was still locked. She shuddered, not wanting to think of what kind of magic he possessed. He frightened her. All demons frightened her. And yet humans frightened her even more. It was why she hunted them. Killed them. Wished she could be one of them.

"You got it back!" he crowed, striding over towards her and unhooking it from where it dangled from her fingers. "Well isn't that just nice? Guess I don't need to torture you after all. And just in time, too."

"Hatoss is here?"

"Almost. He's arriving in town tomorrow."

"He's early. By almost a week."

"Yes, he is. I don't know, thinks he's all that just because he's been around a mere half a century. But who am I to complain? The sooner the better, huh?"

The girl nodded and stepped over towards the large window. She almost flinched as the bright sun glowed upon her. It didn't affect her, like she knew it did some demons, but she so rarely went out during the daytime that it always surprised her how bright the sun could actually shine.

"So how'd you get it, anyhow?" he asked, unaware of her inner thoughts.

She turned to face him, a little confused and dazed by the effects of the sun. He held the pendant up and dangled it, the expression on his face betraying how much of an idiot he really thought she was. How little he thought of her. But still she gravitated towards him, desperate to please him, to make him think more of her.

"It was easy," she bragged, flicking her hair casually. "Too easy, in fact. I was almost disappointed in the lack of challenge."

"You changed into her, didn't you?" His eyes danced with excitement.

She nodded. "Into Buffy Summers. The Chosen One. Or, one of the chosen ones, should I say."

He waved her last comment aside. "Those other little girls don't count. She gave them their powers. She is the only real chosen one."

The dark skinned girl shook her head. "There is the other one, don't forget. The reformer."

"No, she doesn't matter to me. She's a glitch. She's always been a glitch. Continue with your tale, my dear." She hated how he was only ever gracious to her when he wanted something, and yet she loved it at the same time.

"I changed into her and simply called up her watcher. He was more than happy to meet me and hand the pendant right over. Boneheaded human."

He shook his head disbelievingly. "And yet he is the one chosen to lead their army of watchers. The men who keep the slayers on track. Seems awful foolish to me. And he didn't suspect a thing?"

"Not at all. Although I imagine when he talks to Buffy Summers today he will learn of my deceit and it may perturb him sightly." She grinned evilly.

"It's a good thing she wasn't with him when you called to arrange the meeting, huh?"

"I checked first!" She looked offended at the thought that he would accuse her of not checking from all angles before carrying out her plan. "She was with the Winchester boy."

His face morphed into a mask of delight. It was almost twisted, in a way. "Little Sammy?"

"Yes."

"Oh! Oh, well now that just warms my heart, it really does." He looked down at the body he was wearing. "Or it warms his, anyway. I was wondering when the Winchester boys would show up. They do seem to have a knack for it. And Buffy and Sammy are friendly, are they? I could just skip and dance in all my joy."

"But I thought you said that it wasn't time for the Winchester boy yet? You said he's not ready."

"It's not and he isn't. But if all goes according to plan – which it will – the two of them will be working very closely together in the future. Doesn't hurt for them to acquaint themselves with each other in the meantime." He smiled for a moment, before clapping his hands together delightedly and spinning on his heel. "Well, time's a wastin'! We need to get ready for the big arrival. I need to go prepare his working area. And you need to prepare yourself."

"I'll meet him?" she asked, her eyes widening in both fear and anticipation.

"Don't look so scared, kiddo. If you're a good little shape-shifter he wont kill you on sight. Hey, do me a favor before I go?"

"Anything."

"Be her. Just for a minute. Go on. Make my day."

"Be who?" she asked sullenly, pretending not to know.

"Don't try my patience. Be her. The slayer."

The girl gestured towards herself and crossed her arms and didn't change.

He rolled his eyes. "Not this...you know who I mean."

The girl heaved a sigh and turned away, breathing deeply through her nose. She hated the change. It was degrading. Painful. But not nearly as painful as it would be if she disobeyed him. At least she usually had the option of changing in private. Doing it in front of him was just...uncomfortable.

The man watched in avid fascination as she pulled off her clothes and dropped to her knees. She braced her fists on the floor, and with a tortured scream, her bones began to shift. Her teeth dropped out, one by one at first, until finally they all came out in one large clump as a new set of gums pushed its way through. Clawing at herself, she began to literally rip the skin off of her body while writhing in pain. It was disgusting. He loved it.

Finally she finished, and with a deep breath, stood up and turned to face him, not even bothering to put back on her clothes.

The man grinned, his eyes flashing yellow in delight. "We meet at last, Buffy Summers," he whispered.

She said nothing, but smiled coquettishly at him, perfectly willing to play along with his game.

He reached forward and traced her cheek with the tip of his finger. And then, quick as a snakebite, he withdrew his hand. "That's enough for one day," he declared happily. She blinked, and by the time her eyes had reopened he had disappeared, only the lingering sounds of his dark chuckles remaining in the dimly lit room.

"Hatoss is a warlock," Giles was explaining to the group. "A very powerful warlock, actually. More powerful, even, than you, Willow."

"And a pretty old one, I'm guessing, if he made those Tabatha thingies half a century ago," Buffy commented.

"Tababton," Giles corrected. "And yes indeed, he is very old. Though I believe he was still mortal when he created them. He most likely uses the same magic on them as he does himself to prolong his life."

"So that's all he's doing to be all immortal? Taking some magic potion? Are you sure he isn't cursed too?" Dean asked, glancing at Rana out of the corner of his eye.

"No, he isn't cursed, and I imagine it's more than just a magic potion. But couple it with the fact that he has simply abused the magics for far too long, and you will soon begin to understand why he is no longer human. Though I should point out that he is not immortal, merely ageless. I do believe he can be killed. He is much like a vampire in that way."

"Ah," David Chan said, beaming. "Well, that shouldn't be too hard. It's not like any of us have never faced down a vampire before."

"But we must remember that the power he controls is very strong, and while I say he could be compared to a vampire because of his agelessness, I don't mean that he will be as easy to kill," Giles countered.

"So how do we kill him?" Buffy inquired.

Giles rubbed the sides of his temples with the tips of his fingers. "I do fear I'm not explaining myself properly. Hatoss can be killed just like any other man. A gun shot, a stab wound, death by burning, drowning, so on and so forth. But getting close enough to him to actually do any of these things is another matter entirely. He possesses a lot of dark power, and that makes him strong."

Stronger, even, than dark Willow. He didn't say the words, but the tiny glance he cast her way gave all those in the know a hint on just what it was he was thinking.

"But what's he doing here in Cleveland?" Faith asked. "Seems to me a warlock with this much power could go anywhere he wants. Why here?"

"Perhaps it has something to do with the Hellmouth," Giles mused. "Though compared to the one we shut down in Sunnydale it is positively inactive, so I don't understand why. But we must assume that he has some sort of plan. You and Buffy wouldn't have had matching prophetic dreams if that weren't the case."

"So what can we do?" Sam asked. "Do we hunt this guy down or wait for him to come to us?"

"To hell with that!" Dean exclaimed. "I'm not sitting around waiting for this punk to hunt us down and set his creepy white assed minions on us. I say we go find the bitch and put a bullet through his heart. That seems to get the job done with almost anything."

Buffy sighed. "As much as I hate to agree with Mr Caveman over here he does have a point. I don't particularly feel like waiting around to see what this Hatoss guy has in store for us. We need to find out where he is and what his plans are. Fast."

"But is he even in town yet?" Faith interjected.

"Good point." Buffy turned to Willow. "Wills, you think you could do a locator spell or something?"

Willow pulled an apologetic face. "You kinda need something belonging to the person you wanna locate for a locator spell to actually...locate. I seriously doubt we're gonna find a sweater or a used hanky of his lying around."

"Well is there anything else we can do?"

"I could do a general demon locator spell, I've gotten pretty accomplished with that over the years, although I'd have to get another witch to pair up with me to do it."

"I'll do it!" Andrew offered.

Willow nodded in acceptance and continued. "It'll highlight the demon populated areas in town, let us know if there's any new or overly large gathering of demons around. And it highlights in different colors according to demon, which will be useful. I've been teaching the spell to some of the more magically inclined slayers – because hey, nifty spell to know – so I'll be able to tell if anything's changed since the last time I did it."

"Thanks, Will, that's great. And the rest of us need to split into teams. Research and patrolling."

"We could take the girls out in groups?" Kennedy suggested. "It'd be good training for them."

Buffy shook her head. "No, it might be too dangerous. I don't want the younger girls out there who aren't ready. I'm guessing that Maggie's disappearance has something to do with Hatoss, and she wasn't exactly inexperienced. Kennedy, Vi, I want you to call up Rona and any of the other senior slayers and get them back here as soon as they can. You girls are more than ready for this kind of thing and we could do with the extra fire power. After you've contacted them, you girls get some rest and then patrol the cemeteries. But go in groups of at least two's or three's. Faith, Dean, Sam and I will hit the town, parks and forests. The rest of you guys should hit the books. See what you can learn about Hatoss and any possible plans he may have."

"We're on it," Xander told her reassuringly. He reached his hand out tentatively and placed it over hers, giving it a little squeeze. Buffy looked up with a start. It had been a long time since he had done anything like that. He looked bashful for a moment, and seemed about to say something else, but then everyone began moving away from the table and the moment was lost.


	10. Chapter 10

Imperium - Part Two

Disclaimer – Don't own anything you might recognize. They all belong to their respective owners.

Imperium – Part Two

Despite the extra patrol, no one found anything of consequence that night – in the books or on the streets. And although the vampire population still seemed to be rising, no one came across any of the Tababton. Buffy and Faith tried beating up a couple of vamps for information, but none of them were talking. This worried Buffy slightly, as vampires weren't usually so hard to get information from. This bad guy they were coming up against must really be something.

And not only this, Willow's spell came up negative too.

"There's nothing new on the map," she reported to a disappointed Buffy. "But I'll try again tomorrow."

There was no further luck with the research side of things either. There was nothing to suggest as to why a powerful warlock would be headed to their town.

So after a disappointingly frustrating night of nothing, everyone headed back home to a disturbingly sleepless night of unrest, hoping that tomorrow would bring them some better results.

Buffy was awoken the next morning to the sound of her cellphone ringing from her bedside table. She looked over at her alarm clock as she reached over to pick it up. Five forty am. Geez, what was wrong with people?

"What?" she snapped grumpily into the phone.

"Buffy, it's me," an urgent voice replied.

Buffy shot up at the evident distress in Giles' voice. "What's wrong? Did something happen?"

"I need you to meet me at the school immediately."

"Giles, what is it?"

"Just get here."

Not everybody had been called to this impromptu meeting, as Giles had explained that time was of the essence. Buffy and Faith were there, along with Andrew and the Winchesters – Buffy had been sure to wake them. If she had to be up, so did they! Giles was also there, and a weary looking Willow, with a concerned Kennedy comforting her. Nobody else was present.

Buffy looked between Giles and Willow. "Guys, what's happening? Is it something to do with this Hatoss guy? Do we know why he's here?"

"Yes, it's to do with Hatoss. And it's also to do with the pendant," Giles informed her solemnly. "Willow can tell you more than I can."

"My coven, back in England," Willow began. "said that they would try to learn anything more about the amulet. You know, after I talked to them? They thought that they might be able to learn more, being so similar and all. But honestly, I didn't think they'd be able to help us much, which is why I never said anything. It's surprising, actually, how little covens know of each others exploits. They're kind of individual. But they've been doing some spells – pretty intense stuff, really. And then last night they were researching old records, trying to find out if this other coven had ever been mentioned before, and they discovered a spell that has been forgotten for like, centuries. It's really old, as in, let's move into that pretty cave and bash each other over the head because I wanna mate with you old. And believe me when I say it was big scale stuff, huge scale stuff. But as you know we've all been pretty desperate in trying find out what we can about this pendant, and we've had no luck so I had to give it a try."

"What did it involve?" Buffy encouraged.

"I had to connect my mind to that of the head of the coven, along with two other powerful witches – one in Australia and one in Vietnam. We combined our spirits so that I was transported to another realm. A higher realm. I don't know where it was exactly but I think it was a good place. While there I could...not talk the dead, but I was aware enough so that they could guide me. Only the ones that chose to, of course." Willow faltered. "They showed me, Buffy. They showed me the truth."

A chill went up Buffy's spine at the sound of Willow's voice. "What did they show you?"

"Louisa Abbot...uh, Juliet Anderson, whatever her name was. She wasn't a guardian of the pendant. None of her people were."

"Then who were they?"

"Guardians of the slayer."

There was a long pause in the room, as both Buffy and Faith tried to wrap their heads around it. "What?" they finally blurted, simultaneously.

Kennedy didn't seem to be at all surprised by this news, and Buffy had to shrug off her minor annoyance that Willow had told her before she had told she and Faith. She understood that Kennedy and Willow were in love, and that was important, but Buffy and Faith were supposed to have some sort of authority, and it stung how Willow seemed to constantly undermine that. But she ignored it – once again. She was far more interested in this new piece of information.

"You mean like the woman I met back in Sunnydale who told me about the scythe?" Buffy continued. "Before I made preacher pie and the town went kablooey?"

Both Sam and Dean desperately wanted to question what in the hell Buffy was talking about, but they sensed that now really wasn't the time.

"No, I don't think so. From what you told me, the woman in Sunnydale and her people were ancient. As old as the slayers and watchers. Or, almost as old anyway. This coven was only around for about three or four hundred years – Juliet was the last. Perhaps the daughter or sister of a witch was called as the slayer and so they formed the coven to help her?"

"Makes sense," Buffy conceded, nodding her head. "Okay. So what do they have to do with the pendant?"

"They weren't guarding the pendant. They were guarding the slayer from the pendant."

Buffy felt herself turn cold. "Why, what does it do?"

Willow sighed and fidgeted with Kennedy's fingers for a moment, before stilling and looking up at Buffy with large, round eyes. "Buffy, if someone with enough power gets a hold of the pendant and are like, really high up on the magic scale, they could use it to control you. And I mean seriously control. Like, your actions, thoughts, morals. They could make you think that being evil is the right thing to do. God, they could turn you into an assassin in a snap. And with you being the slayer and all that would make you virtually unstoppable."

"Wait, hold up a second. What? Control who? Me?"

"Yeah. I mean, they would have to be incredibly advanced. I wouldn't even being to know where to look for a spell like that. It's really dark stuff."

Buffy's hands were rapidly becoming clammy, and she nervously rubbed them on her jean clad knees. "I still don't get it. This pendant can be used to control me? Me me or slayer me?"

"Well...slayer you. But you are the slayer, so I guess you you as well."

Buffy rubbed her head, trying to assemble her jumbled thoughts and newly formed headache. She was confused, and scared. Though damn her if she'd admit it. "Giles, didn't you say that the stone in the pendant was a spirit quartz thingy? That it channels your inner self? So if it was channeling my inner self and that was somehow used to control me, then wouldn't it just be controlling girl Buffy, not slayer Buffy? Because it's not like I was always a slayer. Before I was the slayer, I was just a girl. I am the slayer but deep down I'm just me."

Giles shook his head, saddened by the fact that he had to take away the straws that she was grasping on to. "But it has always been inside you. Being the slayer is what you were born to do . The slayer is part of who you are, the girl the other. People who see you see the girl, but it is the slayer that is inside you."

She didn't like where this conversation was going, not at all. It was making her feel less...human. She glanced over at Faith and Kennedy to see if they were having the same reaction, but Faith was just watching Giles with fascination and all of Kennedy's concentrations were aimed at her ill looking girlfriend. She shook herself lightly. Now was not the time to be feeling sorry for herself. "If the slayer is inside us, the uh...slayers, wouldn't that mean that the pendant can control all of the slayers?"

"No, it's just you. Not even Faith."

"Why not?"

"Because not only are you a slayer, you're the slayer," Willow answered. "Apart from you and Faith, the other girls weren't chosen as the slayer, though the potential was always inside of them. If we hadn't altered the way things are, then they'd still just be normal girls. I mean, one of them one day might have been called. But it might not even have been this generation of slayers. You and Faith, both of you have lived longer than any other slayer recorded to date."

"But that still doesn't explain why it wouldn't affect Faith. Before we cast the spell, the slayer line would have passed on through her, not me. So technically, isn't she the real slayer?"

Willow shook her head. "You're still the oldest slayer. The slayer. Which is why, apart from this last one, you're usually the one who gets the dreams, and not Faith. If you died, I imagine the magic would pass on and the pendant would effect Faith, but for now it's just you."

Buffy sighed and buried her face in her hands. "Right. Fine. So what does all this mean?"

"It means you have to be extremely careful, Buffy," Giles insisted. "And it also means that we can now assume that this is why Hatoss has come to Cleveland. Only someone of his power could possibly execute a spell of this level."

"So what are you suggesting? That I just stay at home and hide under the bed and cower?"

Giles sent her a small, knowing smile. "Even if I begged you to stay hidden you wouldn't, would you?"

"Not a chance. I'm not sitting around so that Harry Potter can come fiddle with my mind."

"I thought so." He sighed. "Well, we have two objectives. Destroy the pendant, and take down Hatoss."

Dean frowned. "Can we destroy the pendant? If those witch broads had it for all those years how come they didn't do it?"

"Because they couldn't," Willow passed on quietly. "The pendant has been around for a longtime, because while there have been people working to help the slayer, there have always been working against her also. It would have been one of these people who created it. And the only thing that would be able to destroy a weapon forged to harm the slayer..."

"Would be a weapon forged for the slayer," Buffy finished, catching onto Willow's meaning.

"The scythe," Faith murmured, and Willow nodded in confirmation.

"But why does this warlocky guy want to control me?" Buffy asked.

"I think we can assume that it's for all the obvious reasons," Giles proclaimed. "Controlling you, he'd have the ability to bring out your pure slayer form, making you a deadly warrior. And we've already established that you'd have no thoughts of right or wrong, no conscience, nothing to hold you back. You'd be a greater use than all of the Tababton put together."

"Oh great, so he wants me to be his minion," Buffy said dryly. "Fun. So how does this spell work?"

Giles cringed. "Ah, we're not entirely sure."

That would make it harder. Never mind, she'd faced hard before. And she'd faced worse than some dumb warlock with a hard on for powerful slaves. "Right." Buffy got herself into action mode. "Will, do you have a location on this Hatoss guy yet?"

She shook her head. "No, sorry. I'll keep working on it though."

"Great. Okay, until then, we need to carry on as we are. Kennedy, get the senior slayers on patrol again. If this guy can only control me then you should be safe, but if you find him then call Faith and I first, don't go in alone. Do not, under any circumstances, let the younger girls go out. We don't know how powerful this guy is. Me, Faith, Dean and Sam will patrol as well. We'll head out during the daylight hours as well, see if we can't find where he might be likely to be holding up." She glanced over at Willow, who was still looking a little rough. "Willow, are you okay?"

Willow nodded reassuringly. "Just a little drained from all the spirit hopping last night. I'll be okay in a couple of hours."

"Are you sure you're okay to do the locator spell again? I don't want you over doing it if you're not feeling great."

"I'm fine honestly. I'll let Andrew take lead of the spell though. It isn't too hard and he was fine with it yesterday."

Andrew sat up proudly.

"All right then. I guess we should all head out."

Everyone nodded and stood up to head in their separate ways, but their progress was halted by the loud gasp that came from Willow. "Oh God!" she cried, dropping to her knees.

They all turned back to look at her in alarm, startled by her sudden outburst. Buffy and Kennedy each moved quickly to her side.

"Willow baby, what's wrong?" Kennedy asked, running a gentle hand through her girlfriend's hair.

"It's Maggie." Willow turned to look at Buffy, tears in her eyes. "She's dead."

The man and the dark haired girl watched as Hatoss surveyed his surroundings.

He wasn't a large man, and that surprised the girl. For someone who had so much power, she had expected him to be...bigger. Taller maybe, or broader. But he just looked like any other ordinary man in his fifties. He even had a mustache. White, to match his frosty colored hair. Ordinary, that was, until you looked into his eyes. She had already made that mistake once, and by God it wouldn't happen a second time. They were the coldest, hardest, emptiest black eyes she'd ever seen. But black eyes she could deal with. She dealt with it all the time. It was the bright red pupils of Hatoss' eyes that chilled her straight to the bone. Sent shivers running down her spine. Even now, over an hour later, a shudder went through her every time she thought of them.

"This will suffice," Hatoss announced, finally.

The man next to the girl frowned. "Really?" he asked, glancing around at the underground cave. "Are you sure you wouldn't like somewhere a little less...damp?"

Hatoss cast an amused glance at his Tababton, who were gathered together in a huddle against a far wall. "They can't abide the sunlight. This place is like home for them. They like being underground."

"Okydoky then! Now we've got accommodation sorted, hows-about my spell?"

"Do you have my ingredients?"

The man refrained from rolling his eyes in irritation. As if he wasn't paying him enough – ten human souls to be precise – he had the cheek to demand that he go out like some low trash, bottom of the rung demon and get all his damn ingredients too. This was why he hated warlocks, they just thought too damn high of themselves. But beggars can't be choosers, he told himself, and despite being a stuck up know it all this warlock really was the best in the biz. And so he held all of this in and instead answered, "Of course. The only thing missing is her blood. But I believe you can help me with that."

Hatoss nodded. "Yes indeed. And what of the pendant?"

The man grinned and pulled it out of his pocket. "Got it right here."

"Very well, everything is in order. Leave me now. I must prepare."

"How long will it take?"

"I shall prepare the other ingredients today, and tonight we shall use the pendant to steal a sample of her blood. Then I will be ready to work the spell. "

"I thought you had to do the magic mojo before the pendant could work against the slayer? How are you going to use it to get her blood?"

"To control her properly and completely, the pendant must be worked on, yes. But meanwhile, with the right incantation and a certain amount of power, we can use it to put her in a walking stupor. It shan't last long, but it will give us enough time to take her blood without her fighting back. But we will have to work quickly before she wakes from it."

"Right. Sounds like fun. So we get the slayer's blood and then what?"

"Add it to the potion, along with the pendant."

"And that's it?"

"No, that's not it!" Hatoss looked at the man through his infuriated red pupils. The girl backed away in fear, but the man didn't move an inch. It would take more than some hopped up warlock to scare him. "If that was it then you wouldn't have needed to summon me, you fool." The man's eyes flashed a dangerous shade of yellow at the insult, and Hatoss made an effort to calm himself down. It would do no good getting himself killed. "After the blood and the pendant – the two most important ingredients – have been added, the potion will have to be monitored, and more magic must be performed over it thrice daily. Morning, noon and night."

"And how long will that part take?"

Hatoss looked extremely smug. "For me, a week. For any other warlock not as advanced as I, it would take months, maybe even years."

The man grinned. "A week until the slayer is in my control!" He sighed happily. "Don'tcha just love when things all work out?"

"How do you know?" Buffy asked Willow, her heart clenching and her stomach tightening. How could Maggie be dead? How could she have failed so miserably to protect her?

"I've been keeping attuned to her," Willow explained, rubbing her face with her hands. "Or rather, keeping attuned with where her essence should be, so I'd know as soon as the protective shield was lifted or..."

"Or she died," Buffy finished quietly.

Willow nodded miserably. "It felt so horrible..."

Everyone around the table was silent for a full minute as they digested the news, none of them quite sure what to say. The silence was only broken when Buffy stood up quickly, ignoring the chair she had just knocked over, and stormed out of the room. It was a show of her strength as she managed to slam the previously unslammable doors against the library walls as she exited.

Those who knew Buffy dropped their eyes, but Dean and Sam looked after her in alarm.

"Is she okay?" Sam asked worriedly.

Giles sighed, pulling off his glasses to rub his tired eyes as he tried to think how best to explain. "Since she was fifteen, Buffy has had a duty to the world. A calling," he began. "as I'm sure you know. It's her job to protect those who cannot protect themselves. And when she isn't able to, it hits her hard and she blames herself, even when there is nothing she could have done to have stopped it. And these girls – these slayers – are here because she made them. She shared her essence with them and made them what they are, and she feels incredibly responsible for them. If she hadn't have done that then many of them would still be back in their own homes, with their families, leading normal lives. So when something happens to one of them..."

"I get it," Sam said quietly. "Should we...uh...should we follow her? Maybe she needs someone to talk to."

Giles shook his head. "Not just yet. Trust me, talking to her will be of little use right now. Let her cool down, work out her frustrations, and then we'll talk to her. We'll let her know that it isn't her fault and that she shouldn't blame herself."

As they discussed the issue and the repercussions of Maggie's death further, none of them noticed as Dean slipped past them and crept out towards the library doors.

After only knowing her a week, Dean already knew where Buffy would be. And so the first place he headed to after exiting the library was the school gym. He was surprised, however, to see a trickle of disgruntled students leaving said place in small dribs and drabs.

Spotting one girl he vaguely recognized from the couple of times he had watched Buffy's classes, he hurried to catch up with the short, red head. She gave a surprised start when he reached a hand out to tap her shoulder and he quickly whipped the offending limb away. She was only thirteen years old, but only the day before he had watched her pick up a watcher with one hand in the lunch room because he had taken the last of the jelly tubs, and Dean didn't particularly have a hankering to be her next victim.

"Uh...hi...Jane?"

"It's Ali," she corrected him, blowing a large pink bubble out of her gum.

"Ali. Of course it is. Uh...what's going on? Why's everybody leaving?"

She shrugged and threw her towel around her shoulders. "Who knows? Our class was in there 'cause Miss Rosenberg couldn't help us with our studies this morning 'cause she was busy having a grownup meeting or something and then Miss Summers just stormed in here like two minutes ago and dismissed us all to our rooms. She seemed mad. Is she mad? Miss Summers is wicked fierce when she gets mad. And everyone does what she says, you know, because she's so mad and she's all senior and awesome and stuff? I hope when I get older everyone does what I say when I get mad. Right now everyone just laughs at me and pats me on the head which is kinda stupid when I could totally beat them up in a second if I wanted to. But I wouldn't, 'cause Miss Summers says it's wrong to beat on people unless they're a bad guy. So I won't do it, 'cause I don't want her to get mad at me. I like Miss Summers. Do you like Miss Summers?"

Jesus. Dean cracked his knuckles nervously, wondering if all kids were this hyped up. How the hell did she speak for so long without taking a single breath? "Uh...yeah, sure kid. Miss Summers is real nice. Thanks...for that. You should get back to doing what Miss Summers told you to do."

"Okay," she chirped, before turning and skipping after the last of the leaving girls.

Dean moved over to the gym doors and peered through the glass panel. He could just about see her, on the opposite end of the room. She had stripped herself of her jacket and was busy furiously pummeling a punching bag. Cautiously, Dean pushed open the door and slipped inside. He watched her in silence for a moment, not at all sure about what to say to make her feel better, and not at all sure as to why he cared so much anyway.

"Go away, Dean," she said calmly – too calmly – after he had not spoken for a whole minute, too absorbed in his thoughts and watching her move as he was.

Starting in surprise, Dean ignored her and instead took a step further towards the center of the room. "How'd you know it was me?"

She still didn't turn around to look at him, but continued viciously beating on the punching bag with a single minded fury. "'Cause you're the only one dumb enough to come in here when I told everyone else to leave."

Dean, conceding her point, nodded his head and began walking slowly towards her, shedding his own jacket and over shirt as he did so and throwing them haphazardly onto the floor. "I wanted to see if you were okay." It was more of a question that a statement.

"I'm fine," she lied. "Leave me alone."

"Why don't you turn around and look me in the eyes when you tell me you're fine?"

Buffy ground her teeth together and punched the punching bag so hard that it went flying off its hook and rolling to the floor. Breathing heavily, she turned to face Dean. "Leave. me. alone."

The fierce look in her eyes might have frightened a smarter man. But, Dean conceded, he had never been all that smart. "I know you're blaming yourself for this girls death but it's not your fault. She chose to take a darker path, Buffy. There was nothing you could have done."

"Shut up," she bit out.

Dean saw her clench and unclench her fists. Giles was right, there was no way she was gonna talk right now. She was too much like him. Too hot headed. And the only thing that made him feel better when he was like this was..."Fine, you don't wanna talk?" He brought his fists up and beckoned her closer. "Lay it on me."

"What?"

"Come on." He lowered his voice. "You're spoiling for a fight, I know it. So fight me."

"Don't be an idiot, Dean."

"Why not? You're angry, right? Take it out on me."

"No!"

"Why not? Better me than someone else. I can take it."

She didn't answer, so he dropped his fists and stepped closer to her until he was very much invading her personal space, knowing that this was a sure fired way to get her revved up. Angrily, she shoved him backwards, but he only shrugged it off and stepped closer again. Enraged, Buffy shoved him back once again and went to throw a punch, of which he successfully blocked with his arm. She moved to punch him again, but he only blocked her with his other arm.

"Come on, sweetheart," he encouraged. "You're holding back on me. Let it out."

His words finally seemed to be enough to snap whatever control that Buffy had been clinging onto, and soon the two fighters were a blur of motion. Dean, while not as fast or strong as Buffy, matched her every kick and punch.

But long minutes passed and he was soon past trying for offense, and was concentrating purely on defending himself. Before long he was short of breath from trying to keep up with her.

And then suddenly a stricken look appeared on her face, and she just stopped and dropped her arms. The two stood, in silence except for the sound of their heavy breathing, for one long minute before Buffy thumped him lightly on the chest with both of her fists and turned away from him to bury her face in her hands.

Dean, refusing to let her turn away from him, grasped her shoulder and spun her around to face him once more. He pulled her hands away from her face so that he could look into her tear filled eyes. She let out one small hiccup of a sob before the real tears began pouring out. Dean, grateful that she was finally letting it out, pulled her hard against his chest and wrapped one arm around her waist and buried the other in her hair. And without saying a word, he let her cry.

"Sometimes I hate what I did," Buffy admitted quietly.

She and Dean were sat side by side against one of the gym walls, facing the doorway so that they would be able to see anyone enter. They were no longer touching, but they were sat close enough so that they could still feel the warmth of the other.

"By making the other girls into slayers?" he asked, knowing – as often seemed to be the case they more they got to know one another – what exactly was on her mind.

She nodded. "It's just...if they were anything like I was when I was just an unaware potential, they had hopes and dreams and a whole other life, and I took all that away. I took away their innocence. Brought them into a world with darkness, and monsters and demons and a life where the end of the world is a possible weekly reality."

Dean fidgeted with the silver ring on his finger, knowing that familiar guilty feeling all too well. He would never forget the devastated look in Sam's eyes the night that he had confirmed the existence of demons to his little brother. He knew the kid would have found out eventually, but he wished he could have given him a few more years of ignorance at least. "But didn't that Giles guy say a lot of these girls would have been training with watchers anyway, cause they were potentials or whatever?"

Buffy sighed. "Yeah, I know. But not all of them. And still, being a potential is a whole lot different than being a slayer."

"But it can't be too bad. They've got all these new powers now, right?"

"And all these new responsibilities."

"But it's not like it was for you when you were called. There's more of them to take the pressure."

"I know. And really, deep down I know we did the right thing. The world's a safer place and all. It's just...sometimes it seems like there's so many sacrifices. Too much death."

"You're thinking about Maggie?"

"If I'd just have tried harder I could have saved her."

"Buffy, she was evil. She had a choice, and she chose the bad guys."

"We don't know that. And even so, she didn't deserve to die."

"No she didn't. But you said it yourself, someone was cloaking her. There was nothing you could have done."

Buffy sighed and leaned her head back against the wall. "Why are you being so nice to me?"

He shrugged helplessly. "I don't know."

"It's a little weird."

"Yeah it is." Once again, silence took over the room before, "Why do we fight so much again?"

"Because you tried to flirt with me even though you're totally dating one of my closest friends," Buffy replied without hesitation.

"Oh yeah." And quickly he added. "And we are not dating!"

Buffy raised an eyebrow at him. "Sure."

"We're not! I've only known her a couple of weeks. We're just having a bit of fun."

Buffy laughed. "You sound just like Faith."

He grinned proudly. "I got a smile outta you."

She shook her head in amusement and leaned over to nudge him playfully with her knees.

He nudged her back, before clearing his throat and pulling a pained expression. "So what about you and Sam?" he inquired awkwardly.

"What about me and Sam?"

"Are you two just having fun or are you dating?"

Buffy burst into laughter. He was such a jackass, she just couldn't help it.

"What?" he asked, frowning when she continued to giggle instead of answering him. "What?"

"Nothing." Calming herself down, she stood up and grabbed his hands to pull him up. "Come on, we've got a demon to kill." Before she left the room, she turned back to face him, her cheeks taking on a slight pink tinge. "Thank you," she said shyly. "For, um..." She gestured between the two of them. "You know. Thank you." And with that, she turned and sped out of the room.

"Hey!" Dean called after her. "You never answered my question!"

Their daytime search was as fruitless as the previous patrols had been. None of them could find where it was that Hatoss might be residing. They still didn't know if he had even arrived in town yet.

Late in the afternoon, Buffy and Faith returned to the school, and along with Giles and Rana, they informed Maggie's former classmates of her death. They spared no details, having decided right at the beginning that wrapping the girls in cotton wool would do them no good in the long term. They were warriors now, and they deserved honesty.

And then it was back out on the search again.

"Man, this is useless!" Faith exclaimed, after the darkness had settled and there was still no sign. She had been edgy all day, snapping and cursing whenever somebody came too close. Buffy wasn't sure what her problem was, but had assumed it had to do with the stress of Maggie and Hatoss and the whole situation. They were all feeling it.

"Faith, it's only just gone seven," she consoled her as she looked at her watch. "It's still way early."

"Maybe we'd have better luck if the four of us split up," Faith suggested, gesturing towards Sam and Dean, who were walking a couple of paces behind them.

"This guy seems pretty powerful. Do you really think we should be going out there on our own?"

"Then we'll go in pairs."

"That sound like a good idea," Dean, who had been eavesdropping, agreed. "Sam and Faith can check out the-"

"No!" Faith interrupted him abruptly. "Dean, you and Sam go together. I'll go with Buffy."

Dean frowned. "But-"

"I said no, dammit! Buffy is the one this guy is after so it'd be better if she was with another slayer!"

Dean held his hands up in surrender. "Okay, whatever. Don't get testy. Me and Sam will take the car and hit some cemeteries further out."

"Fine. Me and Buffy will stay in town, see if we can beat the crap out of anything for information."

Buffy and Sam glanced at each other and shrugged as arrangements were made without their consent.

After they had said goodbye to the boys, Buffy and Faith walked together in silence for a good twenty minutes.

"You do know that I can take care of myself, right?" Buffy said eventually, her tone playful.

"I know." Faith shrugged.

"So what was this about? Why were you so adamant about being the one to come with me?"

"No reason." But Faith was sounding far too off handed for Buffy to believe her. She sighed. If Faith was going to be bad tempered, it was gonna be a very long night.

Faith heard Buffy sigh and made an effort to chill out. So she was in a crappy mood, but it was Dean's fault really, not Buffy's. She had no right to be being all bitchy with her. "So you and Sam, huh?" she asked, making an effort to sound cheerful.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "No, not me and Sam."

"Just a quickie then?"

"No! Me and Sam are friends. Just friends. As in, friends that don't get extra groiny with each other. I don't know what you guys heard last night but we were not having sex."

"Yeah right! If you guys aren't getting 'groiny' with each other then what was that whole thing about before you went on your date last night? And this morning while we're getting down to it?"

"We were just messing with you and Dean. It was a joke. A big joke which has backfired on us completely."

"Oh." Faith looked disappointed. "That's a weird joke."

"We did it because of all the noise you and Dean keep making."

"What noise?"

"You know..."

"No I don't."

Buffy huffed, unable to believe she was having to spell it out to Faith of all people. "When you and Dean are having sex. And making noise. Lots of noise."

Faith's eyes widened and she burst into amused and unembarrassed laughter. "That so? Didn't realize we were causing such a problem."

"Not a problem exactly. It's more just...awkward. For me and Sam and Andrew. Especially Sam, because it's his brother."

Faith smirked and patted Buffy on the back. "No worries, I'll make sure to keep it down from now on. Damn, Iknew Sam wouldn't be that forward. Shame though. I'd put money on him being a good lay."

"God Faith! One track mind much?"

Faith shrugged.

"So," Buffy continued. "Is that why you wanted to pair off? So you could talk about what hasn't been going on with me and Sam?"

"I didn't...there was no reason," Faith lied. In all truths, she just couldn't get her mind off of the way Dean had sneaked off to find Buffy this morning. She hadn't even noticed him gone at first, and when she had gone to look for him she had watched through the door as he and Buffy had sat together in the gym – a little too close together. It might not have bothered her so much if the guy didn't yammer on about Buffy so much, and the way he was constantly jumping to spend time with her was kinda sick. She didn't have feelings for Dean, she was completely sure of that – none that went beyond friendship and thinking he was hot, anyway. And she loved Buffy like a sister. She was probably closer to her than she'd ever been to anyone ever. But she was getting a little fed up of the whole situation. If she was gonna sleep with a guy, then he should want her, and only her. He shouldn't be fawning over other girls.

Thankfully – because if pressed hard enough she might have blurted out the whole sorry situation – she was saved from any further questions by the sound of Buffy's cellphone ringing in her pocket.

"Hello?" Buffy said as she answered.

"Buffy, hi." Willow replied, her tone tired.

"What's up? You sound stressed."

"We've got the location for this Hatoss guy."

"What? Willow, that's great! Now we can stop running around like headless chickens and actually kick some magical butt."

"Yeah, I guess. Andrew and I have been doing the locator spell once every hour. And then once every half an hour. And then we just did it and there was a bright new light on the map. It's a big one."

"Where is it?"

"Buffy, don't you get it? The light just suddenly appeared there and it hasn't moved. It seems to me like he's been concealing his location up until now. This screams trapsville."

Silently, Buffy agreed. But she couldn't just sit at home waiting for this thing to come get her. Especially not now she knew where he was. "I know, but just tell me where he's located. We'll figure it out from there."

Willow sighed. "The light is coming from Kimbrough forest."

"Thanks Will. Do me a favor? Call up the other slayers and send them home."

"Why?"

"If this is a trap, I don't want any of the others in danger. We've already lost one girl, I'm not about to lose anymore."

"Be careful, Buffy."

"Thank you. Now get rested. We're probably gonna need you soon."

"What was all that about?" Faith asked Buffy curiously as she snapped her phone shut.

"That was Willow," Buffy explained. "We have a location. We need to call the guys and tell them to meet us at Kimbrough forest."

"Kimbrough forest? That's on the outskirts of town, right?"

"Right."

"We can make it in less than ten minutes if we run."

"Better get running then. I want this over with."

Faith grinned, and made to call Dean's phone, but there was no answer. She tried Sam's but it went straight to answering machine. Once again, she tried Dean's and when there was no answer for a second time, she left him a message. When she was done, she and Buffy grinned at each other in anticipation, before they turned and began to run.


	11. Chapter 11

Imperium - Part Three

Disclaimer – Don't own anything you might recognize. They all belong to their respective owners.

AN – Some of this chapter has references to Buffy's dream in chapter 3. A couple of them are pointed out, but are couple aren't so keep an eye out for them :D

Imperium – Part Three

It wasn't until he and Buffy had had the dating talk earlier that day that Dean had even considered his brother in the tangled web of confused thoughts inside his mind. If Sam really liked Buffy, then what right did he have to be such an ass about the whole situation? Damn, if Sam really liked Buffy then he seriously needed to just get a grip and get over the entire thing, stop having crazy thoughts about her and stop being such a jealous jerk towards his brother. If this was something that Sam wanted then there was no way that he was gonna stand in his way.

"So, how was you're uh...date, last night?" he asked Sam as the pair of them trundled through a graveyard, flashlights in hand so that they could thoroughly search the place. He was only asking because he wanted to take an interest in his brother's life, he told himself. Not because Buffy had refused to give him any information earlier on.

Sam rolled his eyes. Maybe the whole joke had just been a really bad idea. He was pretty sure he wasn't gonna hear the end of this for months. "Leave it out, Dean. Do you really think now is a good time to be discussing our romantic interests."

Dean pulled a face but conceded Sam's point in silence. For a minute. "But you like her, right?"

Sam stopped and turned to face his brother, curiosity shining on his face. "Do you like her?"

Dean blanched. "Dude! What...That's just...nutty!"

"Are you sure? Because you seemed awfully pissed last night when me and Buffy were heading out."

Dean forced his mind to work quickly to come up with a reasonable excuse. "Well, it's because I don't like her. And I was worried about you, little brother. Don't want Little Miss Bitch of the Year upsetting you, do I?"

"You're sure that's it?"

"Yeah! Why would you think that I like her? I cant stand her! We cant even be in the same room for five minutes without fighting.

Sam shrugged in acceptance, seeming satisfied, so Dean – not wanting to push his luck any further – turned away to sweep his eyes across the graveyard once more. "This place is a bust," he surmised. "Let's head back to the car."

Sam agreed and they made their way swiftly back to the Impala. As Dean got in, he realized he had left his cell phone on the car seat. It must have dropped from his pocket as he was climbing out. "Crap," he muttered, when he saw he had a message. It was from Faith, telling him and Sam to meet her and Buffy somewhere called Kimbrough forest. The message wasn't from that long ago, and she was telling him to hurry.

"Why didn't she call you?" Dean asked Sam.

Sam winced. "Uh, I forgot to charge my battery," he admitted. "It ran out like an hour ago. I didn't think it'd matter because we were all together."

Dean shook his head, mumbling insults about his incompetent excuse for a brother under his breath. As he started up the car, he said to Sam, "Get the map out and find where this forest is. The girls are there by themselves and that's where the big evil is."

"Should we call them back?"

"No. They'll probably be there by now and if the bad guys haven't found them yet I don't want them being alerted. You know what Buffy's like. She's always forgetting to turn her phone on silent."

"Alright then, let's go."

The forest was quiet. Very dark and very quiet. And it didn't sit well with neither Faith nor Buffy.

"Couldn't Willow get a more precise spot?" Faith asked. "This forest has gotta be huge."

Buffy shook her head. "The map wasn't all that specific, and that's all she's got to work with. I don't think they do maps of the forest. Or do they? I don't know. I'm not a ranger."

"Well, I don't like this. It seems too still to me."

"I agree. It feels weird."

They walked deeper into the forest for a few more minutes, before both stopping at exactly the same time.

"Can you feel it?" Faith murmured, shifting her shoulders in preparation.

"Oh yeah. Bad guy tinglies."

They looked around, peering through the trees, but it was too dark to see very far.

"I don't see them."

"Faith," Buffy said, her voice low. She nudged her and nodded to a point ahead of them, where a dark shape was moving towards them. The closer it got, the easier it was to see that it was man shaped, and the vibes they were getting were enough to let them know that it was a vampire...and not alone. The two girls twirled around. Vampires were edging out of the shadows all around them, forming a circle through the trees. Buffy lost count as she tried to keep track of them all. How many were there? More than a dozen. Two dozen? More than that?

"Holy crap," Faith muttered.

"Boy am I glad I brought this," Buffy said, fingering the scythe.

"You and me both, sister." Faith lifted up the sword in her hand.

"Guess we know why the vamp numbers have been upping recently."

"For this Hatoss dude? To protect him or guard him or something?"

"That's what I'm thinking."

They had no time to discuss it further before the first wave of vampires attacked.

These were no fledgling vampires, and they surely knew what they were doing. Ordinarily, Buffy and Faith could have taken them on easy. But there were just so many of them. Every time they staked one, another two sprang forward to attack.

Faith ducked an attack and span around and decapitated the offending vampire with her sword. Suddenly, four were advancing on her. "Buffy," she called.

Knowing what Faith was calling for, Buffy threw her the scythe and they swapped weapons, just as they had been doing back and forth since the fight had begun.

Faith dispatched the four vampires and twirled around so that she and Buffy were fighting back to back. A burly vampire managed to get in a kick to her stomach, and as the action caused her to bend over, he kicked her hard nose. She felt it crack, and then the uncomfortable sensation of blood spurting out and down into her mouth. Shrugging it off and spitting it out, she punched the vampire in the face and then elbowed him, before ramming the pointy end of the scythe through his heart..

"Dammit, B! There's too many!" she shouted, as another two came at her from both sides. "We need help!"

Buffy's eyes widened.

Back in the forest, she and Faith were fighting back to back against two dozen vampires.

"There's too many!" Faith shouted. "We need help!"

Just like in their dream!

But her momentary lapse in concentration cost her, and she felt the blade of a dagger nick her chin and swipe across her shoulder, before her legs were kicked out from under her.

Just as she was really beginning to regret her decision to send the other slayers back home to safety, the sound of a gunshot rang loud and clear throughout the forest. The vampire attacking Buffy glanced away to see where it had come from, giving her the chance to flip back up on her feet and stake him from behind. Hearing Sam and Dean's unintelligible shouts, Buffy allowed herself a moment of relief before realizing that the reason they were yelling so loud was because they were being chased by a dozen knife wielding Tababton.

They were even creepier in reality than they had been in their dreams or the picture. Behind the pallid, white skin and the blood red eyes and the hunched back and the claw like fingers, Buffy could almost see how they were once men. It made them scarier, somehow. The Tababton joined into the fight with a ferocious intensity, seeming only to be focused on one thing – capturing Buffy.

Buffy was fighting against four vampires when two of the Tababton appeared suddenly on either side of her. So taken by surprise as she was, she was too late to react by the time they had grabbed a hold of her arms and pinned her against a tree.

She struggled to get away, but their grip was too strong. To her right she heard Faith give a strangled shout, and as she glanced across she saw that she too had been pinned up against a tree. One of the white faced demons had a hold of her arms with one large hand, and had her pinned by the throat with the other.

Faith's eyes widened in horror as she looked back at Buffy, and Buffy looked down just in time to see one of her captors pull out a large, shining knife.

"No!" Faith screamed, as the knife plunged towards Buffy's stomach.

Buffy gasped, closing her eyes against the searing pain that was sure to come. And then Dean was there, barreling into the demon and knocking it to the ground. Making a mental note to thank the holy hell out of him if they survived this, Buffy was able to kick her other captor off of her rejoin the fight.

Dean's timely save of Buffy's life seemed to give everyone a new lease of energy. With a whoop, Faith threw her own Tababton off and had it immobilized within a matter of seconds. The foursome began to attack their foes with more vigor, and Buffy's heart jumped at the thought that they might actually all make it out of this fight alive.

And then suddenly, the remaining vampires were running away.

"What the-" Dean started, ducking as a Tababton demon swiped at him.

"Take Sam and go after them!" Buffy called to Dean. "Me and Faith will stay and deal with these guys!"

Sam and Dean didn't even hesitate. That amount of vampires – there was just no way they could let them run off without even attempting to thin the herd.

Buffy turned back to the fight just in time to see a small rock bounce off of Faith's head. It wasn't enough to knock her out, but it left her dazed for just a second. And a second was all it took for two of the demons to grab her arms and yank them behind her back. Faith struggled against them, her expression vicious as she tried and failed to kick out. Buffy instantly moved forward to help her, but her lack of concentration gave the Tababton the upper hand and just as quickly as they had got Faith, they had Buffy in the same position. Captured. And this time there was no Dean to save her.

But they no longer seemed intent on harming the girls, and were instead simply holding them in position.

The reason why soon became all too clear, for out of the shadows stepped a new figure. It was a man. An ordinary looking one, as far as Buffy could tell, though his face still remained hidden by shadows. But even so, she knew he was evil. She could feel it crawling all over her. And it was a darker kind of evil than anything else they'd faced tonight. Hell, anything they'd faced since they last hellmouth they'd stood on.

As he stepped forwards, Buffy gasped in recognition. He was the man from the dream!

The man glanced in the direction the vampires and the Winchesters had sped off in and chuckled. "Had to send them away," he said. "They were ruining the party."

Buffy wasn't sure who he meant, the vampires or the Winchesters. But in the next moment it didn't matter because like in her dream, he was holding up his hand, dangling the sparkling pendant from one of his fingers.

"Buffy, don't look at it!" Faith yelled, wary of what Willow had learned about it.

But it was too late.

"Imperium," the man hissed.

Suddenly, Buffy was seeing the pendant in a whole new light. "It's so pretty," she murmured, as it cast off a brilliant glow.

Faith – to whom the pendant hadn't changed at all – began yelling Buffy's name in earnest. But Buffy didn't even hear it.

Stop struggling against the Tababton, a voice whispered to her. And so she did.

"Aw crap! Buffy!" Faith yelled. "Buffy, don't do this! Snap out of it!"

Ignore her.

The man turned and began to walk away, gesturing for half of the remaining Tababton to follow him. Not wanting to be left behind in the darkness where the pendant didn't glow, Buffy allowed them to guide her as they stumbled after him.

"Kill her," the man called back to the rest of them, gesturing towards Faith.

Buffy didn't even flinch at his words.

Buffy continued to follow the man and the pendant, not taking the slightest notice of where they were going. She didn't notice when the trees began to thicken, or when the path disappeared. She didn't notice when they came to a large rock face, or when the man led them through a barely visible opening. She definitely didn't take any notice of how the dark entryway led steeply downwards the further inside the dark cave they traveled.

She wasn't aware of how long their odd little group walked, but eventually the narrow path began to widen and they entered a large, dank, damp underground room. The rocky walls were lined with fiery torches, and the low glow only seemed to emphasize the shadows of the shapes moving around inside it.

There were more people in here, waiting. Another man. Oldish looking, hunched over a steaming cauldron. And a young, dark skinned woman. Buffy was sure she was supposed to know her. If only she could clear this fog in her mind, then maybe she would be able to figure out how.

"I am not amused, Hatoss!" the man leading Buffy roared towards the other, older looking man. "One of your disgusting foul excuses for demons almost gutted my slayer! I thought I told you to give them strict instructions not to damage her!" He threw the pendant at him, and the older man caught it easily and placed it inside his robes.

The man who appeared to be called Hatoss rolled his eyes and waved his comments away. "I told them not tokill her. You think I couldn't fix any flesh wounds they inflicted upon her? They could have cut off her hands and feet and I could have had them back on in a trice." Hatoss seemed offended at the lack of faith the other man had in him, but when he looked over at Buffy, his face twisted into a mask of pleasure. "Ah, so the spell I gave you for the pendant worked?"

"It did indeed. But look into eyes, she's fighting it off already." He was pleased by this. She just proved she was stronger than he thought all the damn time. "Now we have her here, we need to take her blood and do the proper spell. The permanent one."

Hatoss nodded and waved distractedly at the Tababton. One of them stepped forward, a sinister grin on its face as it lurched over to Buffy, a sharp, jagged edged knife in its hand.

Stand still, don't struggle, the whisper in Buffy's mind demanded.

She watched, without really seeing, as the demon pulled off her jacket. And then it was running the blade across her upper arm, slowly and deeply. She couldn't even feel it.

After it had finished, it moved backwards and another came forward, lifting an empty glass tube up to her arm to collect the steady flow of blood.

As Buffy watched him, her eyes began to narrow and the mist in her mind began to clear. She was beginning to come back to herself.

Hatoss saw this. "Quickly," he hissed to the others. In a snap, the cauldron had disappeared in a shimmer and the torches had gone out and the room was pitched into a black darkness.

Buffy blinked and looked around, shaking her head as her eyes adjusted to the lack of light. Where the hell was she? The last thing she remembered was being back in the forest and being held back by those gross demon things. And there had been a man. Who was he? How had she got here? Where was Faith, and the Tababton? Why couldn't she remember? Why was she feeling so dazed?

Suddenly, a single, solitary torch began to burn near one of the walls, and in the dim light she spotted one of the Tababton. It began to chuckle quietly, making no move to disappear into the shadows. Buffy began to stalk over to it, but was stopped by the sound of a low voice, chanting. She couldn't tell where it was coming from. Somewhere in the shadows? She tried to make out what the voice was saying, but she couldn't understand the words.

"Hello?" she called, her voice filled with false cheer. "Hatoss, that you? Here, little warlock..." There was no answer to her teasing. "You know, you might as well come out from wherever you're hiding, I'm gonna kick your skanky butt anyway."

The chanting stopped and another torch lit up, though it was still not enough to see where he was. "I think not, little girl," he replied with a chuckle.

And then half a dozen Tababton vaulted forward, grabbing at her arms and legs and dragging her over to the far wall. Buffy flinched as she saw the thick chains bolted there, and with a pounding heart began kicking desperately to get away. Where the hell was her damn scythe?

They had managed to chain one of her arms to the wall when the sound of pounding footsteps filled the cave.

"Buffy?" she heard Faith's voice shout out, followed by Dean asking, "Are you sure this is it?"

"Of course I'm damn sure! I can feel her, you-"

"Faith!" Buffy yelled, only to be back handed by one of the demons.

"Buffy! We're coming!" Sam yelled.

And then Faith was there, storming the room, scythe in hand. Behind her, Dean and Sam followed, looking equally as deadly. Both Sam and Faith moved straight in for the attack, but as soon as Dean saw Buffy he was at her side in an instant, fear evident in his eyes as he checked her for deadly injuries.

"Thank God," he murmured, again and again, and Buffy wasn't quite sure if he was talking to her or himself. "Thank God, you're not dead."

Despite her dire situation, her heart began pounding for an entirely different reason as the sound of relief and desperation in his voice filtered into her brain.

"Dean, behind you!" she warned, her own voice panicked.

He turned quickly to find a Tababton demon hobbling speedily in their direction, knife poised and ready to attack. Dean raised his gun and shot it straight between the eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asked, turning back to Buffy. "We got back to Faith and killed the rest of those sons of bitches but I couldn't see you anywhere and then she told us they'd hypnotized you or something and taken you away and I was so...uh, we were so scared."

Buffy felt her heart give a strange lurch at the look in his eyes. She moved forward, before remembering her chained up arm. She gestured at it to Dean. "I'm okay, really. But, uh, kinda stuck here."

"Oh yeah, right." He shook himself and tried to clear his mind. "Okay. Uh, key?"

Buffy shrugged helplessly. "One of the white guys has got it. I don't know which though, they all look the same to me."

"Can't you just use your super strength and yank it off?"

Buffy pulled her 'Dean's an idiot' face. "What? Like you think I haven't tried that already?"

Dean rolled his eyes, told Buffy to move as far away as she could, and aimed at the chain with his gun. It took a couple of shots, but she was finally able to move away from the wall.

Buffy held her newly freed hand up, complete with manacle and a little bit of chain. "Thanks." She smiled indulgently. "You better know how to pick a lock."

"Later," he replied.

Faith called Buffy's name and with a reassuring smile, threw her the scythe. Buffy and Dean glanced at each other for a second, before joining in the battle. Soon enough, with the four of them working together once more, they had destroyed the remaining Tababton with an almost laughable ease.

As they stood over the corpses, panting from exertion, Buffy frowned. If this Hatoss guy was so powerful, why hadn't he stopped them from killing all his minions?

From the shadows, a furious roar rang out, sending a wave of echoes throughout the cave. Buffy span around, her head darting from side to side as she searched for the source of the noise.

"No!" a man cried out from where he was knelt on the floor. He was old – maybe a few years older than Giles, and he had eyes that sent shivers through Buffy's heart. Black and red, possibly the scariest combination she had ever seen.

Hatoss, Buffy presumed.

But he didn't seem to be mourning the loss of his creations. Instead, he was looking at his outstretched hands in horror. Energy was gathered around them, but every time he tried to aim it at them it would just fizzle out into harmless sparks.

"What have you done to me?" he demanded.

"I called Willow," Faith murmured smugly to Buffy. "Right now she's got a nice little protection spell working on us. Wont last for long though, not with someone as powerful as him. Wanna do the honors?"

Buffy hoisted up the scythe and looked Hatoss up and down, her expression darkening. "Love to."

"Back!" he screeched as she advanced towards him, holding his hands outstretched arm towards her. When she continued stalking in his direction, he waved to towards the walls. Large chunks of rock broke off and flew towards her, but as soon as they got within a foot of her body they bounced off of an invisible barrier. "I said back!"

"Guess what, Voldemort," Buffy said, her voice full of fire She lifted her weapon up into the air. "You don't get to tell me what to do anymore." And with as much strength as she could muster, she swung the scythe, successfully separating his head from his body in one sweep. The decapitated head landed on the floor with a sickening thud.

Buffy let her weapon arm drop, but didn't move from where she was standing. She looked down at the body, breathing heavily, hatred washing over her even though he was dead.

There was a heavy silence in the cave, until Sam finally spoke up. "Uh, is he dead?"

Buffy looked pointedly at the head and then at the body.

"I just mean, he was this powerful warlock. Is beheading enough? I think I can speak for all of us when I say I do not want this guy coming back."

"Good point," Buffy conceded. "Faith, could you call Willow and see what she thinks, please?"

"Yeah, sure. I was gonna call her and tell her she can finish with the protection spell anyway."

Faith moved up and out of the cave so that she could get a better cell reception, and Buffy went back to staring at the deceased form of Hatoss. He had wanted to control her. He had controlled her. He'd gotten inside her mind, made her forget who she was. It made her feel so...violated. She wished she could remember the events of what had happened in between being captured in the forest with Faith and waking up in a dark cave who knows how long later. But it was all blank. And she felt there was something she should remember, she just had no clue whatsoever as to what.

She should have kept Hatoss alive, at least for a little while. Giles would be pissed that she hadn't kept him around to answer a couple of questions – again. But she had just been filled with so much rage – over what he had wanted to do to her, what he had done to Maggie, because she felt it safe to assume that Maggie had been involved in this whole mess. Hell, even for what he had done to those creatures, the things that had once been men. Besides, they didn't know how long Willow's spell would have worked against him anyway. He could have been up and introducing them to their ugly, painful deaths if they had left it to long.

After she still hadn't moved for a whole minute, Dean cautiously moved over to her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. Her body was tense, but he was sure he felt her relax just the smallest bit at his touch.

Sam, while pulling a disgusted face at the gross, headless body, knelt down next to it and gingerly moved apart the robes. He pulled out the pendant with the tips of his fingers and dropped it a few feet away from the dead warlock, wary of holding it for very long in case it still had any effect on Buffy.

"You'd better destroy it before anyone else can get their hands on it," he said, casting her a glance.

She nodded in agreement, and lifted up the scythe once again.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," said a soft voice, drifting out of the shadows.

Buffy froze. Sam and Dean lifted up their weapons, and Buffy's eyes widened as she recognized the voice.

"Show yourself," she demanded.

A young girl sauntered out of the shadows. A young, dark haired, dark skinned girl, whose voice wasn't the only thing that Buffy recognized.

The weapon in her hand dropped to the floor with a loud clang as all of the blood drained slowly from her face.

"Kendra?"

Oh, him and her. Her and him. I like him, but she's nothing. I hate her. Older than me, but younger than you, though age has nothing to do with it.

Maggie's words echoed through Buffy's mind. Kendra. Of course they meant Kendra. But Kendra was dead.

"You're not her," Buffy said. Her voice was low and dangerous, but Kendra just smirked and stepped closer.

"Buffy, who is this? Do you know her?" Sam asked out of the corner of his mouth.

"You died," Buffy blurted shakily, not even hearing Sam's question. "You died. I...I saw your body. Drusilla killed you."

Kendra tutted and shook her head. "You should know more than anyone, Buffy, that death is not always the end."

Buffy shook her head in denial and took a step back. "No! You're not her! You're not Kendra! Kendra was good, and pure. You're...you're evil, disgusting. I can feel it all around you."

Dean didn't know who this Kendra person was. Didn't know who she was in relation to Buffy. Didn't understand half the things they were talking about apart from the fact that this girl seemed to be dead, and yet still here. And it was because of that that it was all coming together in his mind.

"Buffy," he murmured. "She's the shapeshifter. Remember? The person who Giles thought was you? This must be her. I don't know who this girl was when she was alive but she's not the person you knew. You have to kill her. Silver through the heart, remember?"

Kendra laughed loudly. "Are you going to kill me again, Buffy?"

Buffy blanched. "I didn't kill you."

"Not directly, no. But you never saved me either. Just like you didn't save Maggie."

Buffy's grip on the scythe tightened. "You killed her."

Kendra shrugged. "Poor little Maggie. She hated being the slayer, and none of you even knew. Not you, or your watchers, or her fellow students. She hated the world and you couldn't even see it." Kendra chuckled. "It made manipulating her easier, in any case. She spent months bringing my master and I information from the school, until she began to doubt herself, of course. So he killed her. Tonight, in fact. He took pleasure in it."

"Well, I killed your master, so I guess we're even."

Confusion crossed Kendra's face for one tiny moment, and her gaze flickered across to Hatoss. But it was quickly covered with a superior looking smile. "Yes, you did. Not that it matters. I never liked him anyway."

"What do I look like? Your agony aunt? Can we get to the me killing you already?"

Kendra cocked her head in agreement, before leaping towards Buffy with a hiss and a flash of her silver eyes. Before Buffy could react, the scythe had been knocked out of her hand and across the room. She gave back as good as she got. Better. The shapeshifter was strong, Buffy admitted as they traded blows, but nowhere near as strong as Kendra had been, and Buffy soon had her pinned down beneath her.

"Buffy!" Dean yelled. She turned quickly, and caught with one hand the silver knife that he had thrown towards her. She lifted it up, and then looked into Kendra's eyes.

"You can't stop me," Kendra breathed. "Even if you kill me, another slayer will be sent to take my place."

Buffy froze. Those were the exact words Kendra had spoken right after she had revealed she was the slayer, the first time they had ever met.

Her hesitation gave the shapeshifter enough time to flip Buffy off of her and onto her back. Buffy, still frozen, landed hard on the ground, barely even noticing the fact that the breath had been knocked out of her.

Jumping up, Kendra knocked both Dean and Sam to the ground before rolling to the floor and grabbing Buffy's dropped scythe. Returning to Buffy, she lifted it up in the air, and was about to deal the final blow when her eyes widened and a choked sound emitted from her throat. Buffy looked down from her face to see the tip of Faith's sword protruding out of the front of Kendra's chest, right at her heard. The sword was pulled backwards, and the Kendra lookalike dropped to the ground, her eyes flashing silver one final time.

Behind her, a deadly looking Faith stood, her blood soaked sword held tightly in her hand. She held out her hand to Buffy and pulled her up. Buffy, blinking tears out of her eyes, looked down at the shapeshifter.

"I couldn't do it," she admitted quietly. "I just couldn't kill her."

"Who was she?" Faith asked, staring into the face of the dark skinned girl. She felt as if she knew her, as if sheshould know her.

"Kendra."

The slayer who had come before her. Buffy had never really talked about her before, but Faith had read about her in Giles' journals. She had been the perfect definition of a slayer – obedient, focused, book smart. The complete opposite to Faith. She wished she had known her. "Oh."

Behind them, a groaning Sam and Dean picked themselves up off the floor.

"Will you please just destroy that damn thing so we can get the hell outta this place?" Dean grumbled, gesturing to the pendant with one hand and rubbing his sore head with another.

"That I can do," Buffy replied. She removed the scythe from Kendra's fingers and brought it down with a cry on the pendant, shattering it into tiny pieces.

The all waited for a moment for something monumental to happen. An explosion or a release of mystical energy. Maybe even just a burst of bright light? But none came forth, and the four were forced to concede that that anticlimactic ending was all they were gonna get.

"Is it over?" Sam asked.

"Looks like," Buffy affirmed. Though something was nagging at her. Something she was sure she'd forgotten. But for the life of her she couldn't think what. It was probably nothing, or something inconsequential like a lamp left on at the apartment.

"Willow said the beheading should have been enough," Faith said, nodding over at Hatoss. "He probably could have healed himself if he'd have lost any of his other limbs, but lopping his head off is pretty finale. Cause he wasn't immortal, you know? Just prolonging his life with all his psycho magic."

"I'd feel a whole lot better if we salted and burned him though," Dean announced. "Her too." He gestured towards Kendra.

"I agree. Though we should probably take them outside to do it," Sam added. "Who knows what kind of chemicals have been used in here." He looked around and shivered. "Not that I'd mind this cave being destroyed but people might have a thing or two to say if the whole cliff face collapses."

The others agreed and together, they lifted the two dead bodies up and out of the cave, before doing the same with the Tababton on the off chance that a civilian ever went down there. After they'd made a pile of the bodies, they salted and burnt them successfully.

"Man, I need to sleep," Sam claimed, as they watched the flames grow taller.

"We should probably go back and check in with the others first."

They all turned to stare at Buffy.

"Really?" Dean whined.

Faith pulled a face. "She's right. They don't like to be left out of the loop. And I guess Willow deserves an update. She did kinda save out butts tonight."

"Big time," Buffy agreed.

They watched the fire for a moment longer, before an awful smelling smoke began billowing out of it.

"Oh God," Buffy gasped, covering her nose with her sleeve. "It smells like rotting corpses!"

Dean rolled his eyes and chose not to state the obvious, instead leading the way out of the forest and back to the car.

None of the noticed the pair of furious, yellow eyes watching them from between the trees.

After they had shared the news of their victory with the others back at the school, everyone insisted – in no uncertain terms – that they take the four of them out to celebrate.

They had resisted at first, grumbling that they were too sore and tired, until Kennedy had teasingly told them they were getting too old, after which Faith had bustled the other three home, demanded that they patch and clean themselves up and get ready for a serious night of partying, determined as she was to prove she could still boogey with the best of them.

So along they went to the club – which, thankfully, had not been one of the bars that Buffy and Sam had visited only a couple of nights before – when all they really wanted was a stiff drink and a weeks worth of deep, dreamless sleep.

And now Faith, Buffy, Andrew and a couple of the older slayers were letting off steam on the dance floor, while Sam and Dean and Xander were chilling at the bar. Willow and Giles were watching the hyped up dancers from a nearby booth with barely concealed amusement.

Sometime later, Buffy and Kennedy dispatched themselves from the packed dance floor and skipped over to the booth. Buffy flopped herself down and took a large gulp of Willow's soda, while Kennedy wiggled her eyebrows suggestively at her girlfriend and pulled her up out of her seat and onto the dance floor.

"You okay, Giles?" Buffy asked once she had clenched her thirst, grinning at the uncomfortable looking older man.

He cringed as he looked around his surroundings and sighed. "Every time I find myself in one of these dingy bars I always tell myself it'll be the last time, and then I allow myself to be dragged here, yet again."

Buffy laughed, and they watched the dancers for a moment in companionable silence. Buffy moved her gaze from a wild looking Faith, to a content looking Willow and Kennedy, to a grumpy looking Xander as he lost a game of pool to Dean – abysmally. She searched the room for Sam, laughing out loud when she saw that he had somehow been dragged out onto the dance floor by an ecstatic Andrew, who was showing him how to do the funky robot. Sam looked more and more embarrassed as the seconds ticked by.

"Are you okay, Buffy?" Giles asked softly, watching her knowingly.

She nodded her head and took another sip of Willow's – nonalcoholic - drink. "Yeah...fine."

"You don't seem so fine for someone who overcame a potentially very dangerous threat this evening."

"That's just it, Giles," she confided in a hushed tone. "This big, potentially very dangerous threat. If it was so big and bad, why was he so easy to destroy? It just feels...wrong to me."

"From the way you and the others told it, he wasn't very easy to conquer at all."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Well, no it wasn't. In a fighting a gazillion vamps and Tababton and losing my memory and almost getting shishkabobbed with my own shiny scythe kinda way. Not to mention the beheading and the scary dead slayer lookalike. But, what about the man Faith and I saw when we were fighting the vamps?"

"I thought we agreed that he was probably the shapeshifter in another form?"

"I know, but what if he wasn't?"

"And who do you think he would be?" Giles asked patiently.

Buffy sighed and rubbed her face with her hands. "I don't know."

"Do you remember seeing him again?"

"Well...no. But I don't remember anything from when he held up the pendant in the forest to being in the cave in the dark." She shook her head. "You're probably right, he was just the shapeshifter. I'm just tired. It's making me a little crazy."

Giles smiled softly. "It's perfectly understandable. It's been a stressful couple of weeks."

Buffy laughed. "Not had this much fun since Sunnydale, huh?"

"No, I daresay we haven't." He stifled a large yawn underneath his hand, and then looked over at Buffy apologetically. "I'm afraid I must head on home, I'm getting rather too old for this."

He bid her farewell, and waved goodbye to the others before disappearing out of the door.

Buffy sat in contemplative silence for a time, deciding that Giles really was right and that she should just be glad it was all over. Her thoughts were broken when Sam stumbled over towards her, a desperate look in his eyes.

"Save me!" he pleaded, his gaze darting from side to side before he looked back at her.

Buffy giggled. "What from?"

"Andrew," he whispered, leaning down close to her so that she could hear him. "He wants to teach me to salsa. I only got away because he's getting drinks. Appletini's. You need to save me."

"And how do you propose I do that?"

"Dance with me." And without waiting for her to respond, he grasped a hold of her hand and dragged her onto the dance floor.

Back in the cave, the man wandered across it, marveling at the destruction that had been caused.

But his earlier anger had dissipated. All was not lost.

He stepped over a blood stain on the floor to where the pendant had been smashed up on the floor. The slayer hadn't take it. Stupid girl. He bent down and brushed the broken pieces into his hand.

He shook his head. Looked like the slayers and the Winchesters weren't as smart as they liked to think. "No one ever said it had to be whole to work its magic," he sang to himself. He looked around the room once more. "Videor," he hissed, and in exactly the same spot that it had vanished earlier on, Hatoss' steaming cauldron reappeared.

Yes, all was certainly not lost.

He reached inside his jacket pocket for where he had – thankfully – placed the vial of Buffy Summers' blood before she had broken free of the mind containment spell, and unstoppered it before adding it to the potion, along with the broken shards of the pendant.

Brushing off his hands, he turned and looked at the splatter of blood on the cave wall, the only remainder left of the legend that had been Hatoss the warlock.

Damn it all! Now the fool was dead and he'd have to find someone else to complete the spell. That was going to waste valuable time. And Hatoss had said it himself, for any witch or warlock other than himself it could take months, possibly even years.

No! He wouldn't allow it. Months it would have to be.

He sighed. So acquiring control of the slayer would take longer than he had originally planned. He'd just have to move his plans around a little, that was all.

He switched his gaze from one splatter of blood to another. The shapesifter's. Treacherous thing.

They'd watched together, hidden from view, as the slayer had killed Hatoss. He could have stepped forward and stopped it, but that would have meant revealing himself to the Winchester boy, and it wasn't time for that. Yet. But she had insisted on being let forward to stop the girl from destroying the pendant, and he had foolishly allowed it. He should have known she'd had an ulterior motive. Trying to kill the slayer when she knew how important she was, the little tramp. He knew why she'd done it, it was jealousy, that's all. He'd smelt it on her every time he's brought Miss Summers' name up. And now the shapeshifter had gone and got herself killed. Oh well.

He wondered if he felt some sort of emotion for her passing. Sadness maybe? No, sad was far too strong an emotion. He was perturbed, that was it. She'd been a damn fine minion. You didn't find many shapeshifters that were willing to play well with others. Never mind. He'd find another demon somewhere whom he could persuade to tend to his needs. And then he'd have Buffy Summers. And then Sam Winchester. And then...then he'd unleash Hell up on earth.

In the dank, dark cave deep, deep down under Kimbrough forest, Cleveland, Azazel grinned in delicious anticipation as he thought of his upcoming plans.


	12. Chapter 12

Goodbye Cleveland

Disclaimer – Don't own anything you might recognize. They all belong to their respective owners.

Goodbye Cleveland

A horrid, nasty feeling was wriggling around inside of Buffy's stomach as she sat, curled up at the head of Faith's bed, watching her closest friend pack up a bag as she prepared to get back out on the road again. Buffy pulled her knees to her chest, sadly. "I can't believe you have to leave again so quickly," she said. "You've only just got here."

Faith paused from where she had been folding up a couple of shirts, shrugging as nonchalantly as she could muster. "Well, the bad guy's dead. We beat the dream prophecy or whatever the hell crap that was." She went back to folding shirts so that she didn't have to look Buffy in the eye. "And the guys have found another job. Figured I might as well go with them, you know? But I'll probably be back soon, so no worries." She hated this. This...guilt. It had never bothered her when leaving before. Damn Sam and his all knowing eyes. Now all she could think about was the fact that she was leaving and Buffy was gonna be all alone again, left to deal with all this stupid crap. With Xander and Willow and the other slayers taking advantage of her all of the time. But she just couldn't do it. She couldn't stay here for so long. She was far too restless and she wanted to be back out there.

"I know." Buffy plastered a smile onto her face, not wanting to make Faith feel bad. "I guess I just got used to having you guys around. The apartment's gonna seem real empty with just me and Andrew again."

Faith moved over to her closet to pull out her weapons bag, checking inside it to make sure she had everything she might need. She glanced at her watch and rolled her eyes. "Man, how long does it take to check one stupid car over?" she wondered out loud.

"Dean still messing with his baby?"

"You know it. He said he just wanted to give her a once over before leaving but he's been down there at least two hours. So much for wanting to leave before lunchtime, huh?"

Buffy felt that nasty wriggly feeling start up once again at the mention of them leaving. It had been bad enough all the previous times when it had been just Faith. But now she felt like she was losing Sam, and God even Dean too. And she just had this horrible feeling that once the two brothers left, they wouldn't ever be coming back.

"Dean, seriously man. What's taking you so long?" Sam called out to his brother.

Dean rolled himself out from underneath the Impala, his face the expression of total innocence. "I don't know what you mean."

"We haven't had any troubles with the car since we've been in Cleveland, so I don't see why you'd need to mess with it so much now. You were the one who said you wanted to leave early, remember? So why the delay?"

Dean winced and rubbed his oily hand over his hair. "No reason," he lied.

"You forget that I know you, Dean. I can tell when you're lying."

"I'm not lying," he protested as he pulled himself to his feet. Avoiding his brother's gaze, he looked down at his beloved car. "Maybe we should take her to a shop before we go. Get a professional to look her over."

Sam raised his eyebrows disbelievingly. "Seriously?"

"What?"

"Not once since Dad gave you that car have you ever let a 'professional' touch it. Not once. What's going on, Dean?"

Dean heaved a sigh and leaned back against the car, rubbing his closed eyes with his fingers, and then wincing once he remembered how dirty his hands were. "Nothing's going on! Jesus, Sam. Why've you gotta be so suspicious all the time? I just thought that maybe you'd wanna spend an extra couple of hours with your little girlfriend." It wasn't a complete lie. But it wasn't the complete truth, either. The longer he spent down here on his car, the longer it'd be until he'd have to say goodbye to...Cleveland. He'd gotten awfully fond of...Cleveland. And the thought of leaving Cleveland behind was kind of making his heart hurt. Even if Cleveland was a bitchy know it all with stupid shiny hair and could totally take him down in a second. Yeah, he really didn't wanna have to leave...Cleveland.

"Right." The way Sam elongated the word clearly showed that he didn't believe his brother for a second. "Last night you were all worried about her upsetting me and now you don't want us to be apart? Try another one."

Dean threw his dirty hands up in the air. "Fine! Whatever! I was just tryna be nice but screw you! We'll leave as soon as I've washed this crap off."

Sam watched in astonishment as his brother stormed out of the car park and slammed into the apartment building, ignoring the disgruntled frown an older resident gave him as the door crashed into the wall on his way. He shook his head and bent down to pick up the tools that Dean had left lying on the floor in his anger. He was more than used to his mood swings by now – he'd been putting up with them since they were kids – but these past couple of weeks had been ridiculous. Clearly there was something in Cleveland that was making Dean act weird. Or maybe it wasn't something, but someone. And if so, then Sam really needed to have a talk with his brother, before things got seriously messed up.

He finished picking up all of the tools and then frowned. There was something else underneath Dean's car...

Sam thanked God for long limbs as he easily managed to grab onto the mystery object and pull it out. It was...Faith's wallet. What was Faith's wallet doing underneath Dean's car? Surely they hadn't...no way. There wasn't enough space. So what was it doing there?

Perhaps she'd just dropped it on her way back from the bar the night before? Because he definitely remembered her having it there because she had drunkenly thrust him at one point and told him to go and buy more drinks. He opened it up to check that everything was still inside it. Seemed to be. Money, cards, photo. Check. He shrugged and stuffed it into his pocket before following Dean back into the apartment complex.

"Well that's it," Faith announced as she followed Dean out of her bedroom, duffel bag over one shoulder, weapons bag over the other. "We're all ready to go."

They met Sam in the living room and the three of them dropped their bags so that they could say goodbye to Buffy and Andrew. There was an ominous feel to the air. None of them liked this situation. This...having to say goodbye. It felt wrong, and there wasn't a single person in the room without a heavy stomach.

Buffy jumped up from where she had been sat on the couch painting Andrew's nails with a clear varnish. She walked straight over to Faith and pulled the other girl into an almost bone crushing hug. "Don't you dare leave it so long before you come back this time," she demanded. "And I expect a phone call at least once a day."

"So you can check up on me?" Faith teased.

"Duh. Of course."

Faith pulled back and gripped Buffy by the shoulders, grinning. "Fine. But I'll be checking up on you too."

Buffy moved over to Sam and nudged him with her shoulder before he swept her up in a hug so tight that her feet were dangling above the floor. He span her around once playfully before setting her back down. "I'm really gonna miss you," he admitted honestly. And he really was. With this hunting gig, he knew that it was always easier in the long run not to get attached to people, because in the end he was always going to have to leave. But this time it was different. He didn't know why. Maybe because there was already a sense of familiarity because of Faith, maybe because she was a slayer and she knew the kind of crap he had to deal with. Or maybe it was because he'd really felt some kind of connection with her. Not a romantic one, but a deep one nonetheless.

"Me too," Buffy claimed with a sad smile. "Just promise me that you'll come back some day."

Sam said nothing. He'd learned a long time ago never to make promises he wasn't sure he could keep.

Buffy turned to Dean and the two looked at each other awkwardly, not really sure in what manner they were supposed to say goodbye.

Eventually, Dean forced out a grin and held out his arms. "Don't I get a hug too?"

Unable to conceal a small burst of laughter, Buffy stepped into his arms and threw her own around his neck.

Dean stumbled for a second, surprised and delighted that she hadn't left him hanging there almost like he'd expected. He tightened his grip and buried his face in her hair. It smelled like that herbal whatever shampoo that he'd accidentally used the other day and pretended to hate, and holy Jesus it was doing things to him. Why'd she have to smell so damn good all the time? If he wasn't careful, he was about to say something potentially very embarrassing. He buried his head deeper in her hair to avoid humiliating word babble, and his nose nudged against her neck. Her skin smelled like peaches. Oh God. Don't say anything stupid. Don't say anything stupid. Don't say anything-

"Come with us!" he blurted.

-stupid.

Buffy pulled back abruptly. "What?!" she asked, not at all sure that she had heard him right.

But now that it was out there, no way was Dean taking it back. "Why not?" His voice was excited. "There's a big wide world out there outside of Cleveland, and it is filled with evil. Sam and me are on the hunt of our lives and we could use your help. We need your help."

Buffy scoffed and looked at Faith and Sam for some back up against this ridiculous idea, but they were both looking just as excited as Dean. Faith was positively bouncing on her feet.

"I can't just drop everything and go hunting with you," Buffy protested.

"Why not?" Faith wanted to know.

"Because I have a life here. And the school, and the slayers, and responsibilities. I can't just forget all that." Oh but God did she want to.

Faith snorted. "Screw that! Rana and Giles could totally handle the school! And the slayers are getting better by the day. Kennedy could take over your classes. Or Vi. Or both of them. Whatever."

"I don't think Giles would-"

"Giles would."

"What do you mean?"

Faith looked sheepish. "I kind of already spoke to him."

"About what?"

"About maybe you coming with us. I just ran it by him, 'cause I was gonna ask you to come and I wanted to know whether he thought it was a good idea. I'm doing the whole thinking through my actions think now, remember? And he said that it could definitely be arranged but that I wasn't allowed to ask you because you had to make the choice to leave yourself, or some crap like that. And I was like, 'Man, that's wicked stupid because how's she gonna make the choice if we don't run it by her?' but never mind 'cause this idiot's gone and blurted it out anyway." She grinned happily at Dean, who shrugged helplessly.

Buffy was in overload. She shook her head and stepped back. This was all happening to fast. "I can't just...I can't just leave my life."

Faith raised her eyebrows. "What life? You hunt, you slay, you work at the school, you let people take advantage of you..."

"That is true," Andrew added. "You do let people take advantage of you." He blinked and pulled a face. "Wait, what am I saying? Don't listen to her! You can't leave me!"

Buffy ignored him and turned to Faith with a frown. "I don't let people take advantage of me!"

"B, you work seven days a week just so no one else has to. Don't you want a break from all this?"

"I..."

"Buffy," Dean stepped forwards and took her shoulders in his hands. She was momentarily surprised at the use of her real name, and she turned all of her focus on him. "Come with us. Haven't you ever wanted to get out there? See the world? There's plenty of people out there who need your help outside of this town."

Why? Why did he have to go and talk like that? With his voice all low and seductive. She wanted to go. God, Buffy wanted to go so much. She'd been wanting to get out of Cleveland since before she even got here. And they were making such a convincing argument. So much sense. Could she go? Really? Could she leave everything behind and just go? Just like Faith did?

Sam must have seen the indecision on her face, because he spoke up for the first time. He had waited, before now, because he hadn't wanted to push her, to influence her decision like Faith and Dean were clearly trying to do. "We understand that you feel like you can't just up and leave," he accepted. "but Dean's right. There are so many other people out there who need people like you and us, and we could really use your help too."

Her resolve was slipping away. Very, very fast. "But what about Cleveland?"

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Dude, there's an entire school of slayers up the freakin' road. I think Cleveland's gonna be okay."

"One hunt," Sam suggested. And when Buffy looked over at him questioningly, he elaborated, "Come with us on one hunt, and if you don't like it, you can come home."

It seemed so simple. Could it really be that simple?

Faith punched Sam in the arm playfully. "Nice idea, Stretch."

"No!" Andrew moved to stand in between Buffy and the other three and held up his arms. "No, no, no! Stop with all your persaudy madness!" He pointed at Faith. "And your excitable cheer!" And then at Sam. "And your reasonable rationality!" And then finally at Dean. "And your...your smoldering eyes!"

"My smoldering what?"

"This is silly. It's all...silliness!" Andrew continued. "Buffy doesn't want to live out of a duffel bag or sleep in crummy motels or spend hours and hours in a car all day listening to Faith warble along to Christina Aguilara."

"We are not playing Christina Aguilara in my car," Dean muttered.

"She's not going with you, are you Buffy?" Andrew turned to look at her. "Buffy?"

There was a long silence in the room. Buffy's heart was beating fast and she was gazing at a patch of wall with unblinking eyes. She switched her gaze to Faith, and then to Sam and to Dean. And finally to Andrew.

Seeing the apologetic look in her eyes, Andrew huffed and crossed his arms. "Aw, geez."

Buffy bounced excitedly around her bedroom, stuffing clothes at random into a bag. "What else will I need?" she asked a grinning Dean, who lay sprawled across her bed.

He shrugged. "Hell if I know what kind of crap you girls like to carry around."

She stuck out her tongue playfully and went back to packing.

Dean leaned back against her pillow and continued to watch her, barely able to conceal his delight. He shouldn't be happy. Getting away from her probably would have been the best course of action. Not having her in his life every day would definitely have made it less confusing. But he just couldn't help himself. She was just there and then he was blurting it out and even when she gave him the opportunity to take it back he only ended up heading in the opposite direction. He'd never done anything like that before. Ever. Even Faith had just declared that she was joining him and Sam without asking first. But Buffy and Faith were different to other people. Especially Buffy.

"Hey guys?" Sam called as he knocked on Buffy's door before letting himself in. "Faith and I are gonna go pick up some supplies for the road. Anyone want anything?"

"Pick me up a sandwich."

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother and looked at Buffy questioningly. She shook her head in response.

"We're not going anywhere until we find my wallet, kiddo," Faith's voice sounded in the hallway.

"Oh!" Sam rooted through his pockets and pulled out her wallet. "I found it earlier," he explained, handing it over to her as she too entered Buffy's room.

"Where?"

Sam scratched his head. "Under Dean's car."

Faith frowned. What the hell had it been doing there? She knew she's had it this morning because she'd had to go out early to buy a new box of paracetamol after they'd ran out. Damn hangover. "What was it doing there?" She directed the question at Dean.

He shrugged and averted his gaze. "Must have picked it up by mistake."

Faith nodded. Sounded about right. "Oh. Alrighty then. Sam, you ready?"

He nodded and the two of them left, shouting a quick goodbye to Andrew who was sulking and slamming things in the kitchen. He ignored them and slammed down a pan extra hard.

A couple of minutes later, Buffy stopped what she was doing and turned to shoot Dean a puzzled glance.

"What?" he questioned.

She opened her mouth to speak, and then shut it again quickly. "Nothing," she replied, turning back to her bag.

"Okay." He didn't sound as if he believed her.

A second later, she was facing him once again.

"Jesus, woman. Spit it out."

"I was just wondering why?"

"Why what?"

"Why you asked me to come. It's not like we're best buds, you know? We spend most of our time fighting. Sometimes literally. With violence and stuff."

Dean flinched. Why did she have to ask questions which he really didn't have the answer to? "I told you before, we could use another fighter. Especially with my dad M.I.A."

His reply sounded far too casual to Buffy's ears, and she didn't really believe him. But she wouldn't question him further. Not if his answer was going to bring up a whole load of things that neither of them wanted to think about right now. "I guess," she conceded. "It's just out of the three of you, you'd be the last one I'd have expected to ask me."

"Well, you heard Faith. She wanted to but your watcher guy told her not to. And Sam's just too chicken."

Buffy flopped down on the bed next to him. "So you're the brave one?" she teased.

"Hell yeah!"

She snorted and was quiet for a moment. But it didn't last long. It never did with her, he'd learned. "Oh, we'll have to stop by at the school before we leave."

"Why? I thought you'd already spoke to Giles and got his permission?"

"Dean, I'm twenty four! I don't need his permission."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. You called him and he said it was cool?"

"But I hafta say goodbye in person. Duh."

"You might be back in a week. Two tops, if you don't like it."

"But what if I do like it?"

"Then you'll stay longer?"

"Maybe."

"Good."

"Good?"

"Don't put words in my mouth," he growled, though his tone was playful. "I never know what I'm gonna end up saying when I'm around you."

Buffy didn't know how to reply to that, and in the end decided on the safer silence.

She turned on her side to face him, and studied his profile as he stared up at the ceiling. Why did her heart thump a little harder when she looked at him? Sure he was hot and everything, but so was Sam and he didn't make her feel...jumpy. Oh crap, this wasn't good.

What she needed was for him to make one of his smart assed comments so that she could go back to being eternally irritated by him. That would do it. But instead, he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and grinned cheekily when he realized she was watching him. When he smiled like that he looked so innocent and so...adorable. Her heart fluttered.

Yeah, this wasn't good at all.

"That'll be twenty five dollars ninety five, please," the bored looking, pink haired cashier told Faith.

"Sure." Faith dug her wallet out of her jacket pocket and opened it up to take out the cash. She paused and with a frown pulled out the photograph of her, Buffy, Andrew and Dawn. There were two fingerprints on it, in what looked and smelt suspiciously like car oil. What the hell? The only person who'd been playing around with cars recently was Dean. What was he doing messing around with the photo in her wallet for?

"Hello?" Cashier girl waved a hand in front of Faith's face. "Twenty five ninety five?"

"Yeah, yeah," Faith grumbled. Shrugging her shoulders to herself, she put the photo back inside the wallet. Whatever. She'd never understand that guy. He was probably just using it to jack off under his car 'cause he couldn't be bothered getting his lazy ass back up all those flights of stairs to her.

She handed the money over to the cashier and went in search of Sam.

"Are you sure this is okay?" Buffy asked once again as she and Giles leaned side by side on the desk in her office.

"Buffy," Giles turned to face her to get his point across. "you need this. You and I both know it. Now that the school is settled, Rana and myself are perfectly capable of handling things." He chuckled. "Rana is so capable that she could probably do it without me, even."

Buffy nodded in agreement. "Yeah. Boy were we lucky to find her."

"Just as long as you promise to come back should any more apocalyptic disasters arise." He smiled softly to show that he wasn't being entirely serious.

Buffy grinned and glanced down at her watch. "I'd better get going," she said. "Remember to call me if you need anything. Anytime. I don't even care if it's three in the morning. Call me."

Giles squeezed her arm affectionately before heading over to the door. He opened it up and started in surprise when faced with an equally flabbergasted looking Willow and Xander. Willow's hand was held up in a fist like she was about to knock.

"Hi," she said awkwardly. She glanced quickly at Xander, and then back at Buffy. "We were kinda hoping we could talk?"

"I'll leave you to it," Giles offered lightly, before slipping out of the room.

Willow and Xander entered, and the three stood in a circle for a long moment, each looking down at the ground in a strained silence.

"So what did you guys wanna talk about?" Buffy questioned once she could stand the stilted atmosphere no longer.

Xander and Willow looked at each other again, before Willow started. "Buff, we-"

"Buffy, we're sorry!" Xander blurted.

Buffy frowned in confusion. "What for?"

He looked sheepishly down at his fidgeting fingers. "Recently we uh...we were kind of made aware of some stuff. About you, and how we've kind of not been great with the friendship thing lately."

"And we got to talking and we realized that it was true. Way true. We've totally been neglecting the best friend rules. If there were best friend police we'd have been locked up in jail and had the key thrown away and we'd have had to share a windowless room with Bert and Bertha and oh, that wouldn't be fun 'cause Bert and Bertha don't like to play nice. And also, I don't think they wash everyday. What if they don't let us wash everyday? Then we'll start to smell and people won't wanna visit us and what if they don't even let us have visitors?!" Willow took a worried breath.

"Uh, Will?" Buffy chimed in. "You do know that you're not actually getting arrested, right?"

"Oh yeah." She looked relieved.

"What Willow's trying to say," Xander added. "Is that things between us have really sucked for a long time. And we know that it's kind of our fault."

Buffy sighed and leaned back against her desk. "Guys, I guess we...we've just drifted apart. It's no one's fault-"

"Don't go trying to make us feel better," Willow teased.

"I'm not. It's not like you guys haven't been here. We've all pitched in and worked together."

"Yeah, but that's with the slaying stuff. We're talking about the friendship stuff."

Buffy rubbed her face with her hands. She didn't know what to say. Why did they have to have this revelationnow, just as she was leaving. She dropped her hands. "I've really missed you guys." Her voice was a little croaky.

Xander and Willow immediately stepped forwards and the three met in a tight hug. Buffy's eyes filled with tears and when they pulled back, she saw the same in Willow's.

"I can't believe you're really leaving. I'm gonna miss you," Willow said with a sniff. "I really wish we had more time to talk about this. I hate that we have to be so quick."

Buffy nodded. "Me too."

"Maybe when you get back the three of us can do something," Xander suggested. "A movie night? Like the old days?"

"I'd like that."

He gave her a watery smile. "You'd better get going before I start crying too. We both know Willow would never let me live it down."

"Besides," Willow inputted with an amused smile. "Dean's getting impatient."

The three looked at each other for a moment more, before zipping forward and yanking each other into another bone crushing hug.

Once outside the school, Buffy stopped and took a long breath of the cool, refreshing air, trying to calm her swirly emotions before heading out.

She looked down the steps to where the Impala was parked. Dean was leaning against the hood, his arms crossed and his foot tapping against the floor impatiently. Faith was spinning a pair of Arnis sticks while pretending to fight with them and Sam was sat on the curb, his head bowed over his laptop.

Buffy smiled. This was the right thing to do. And she couldn't wait to get out there.

She skipped down the steps and Dean glanced up as he heard her approach. "Finally," he huffed. "We all happy to shoot?"

"Yep." She smiled so delightedly that he couldn't possibly stay mad at her, and he found himself shooting a goofy grin right back at her.

"Right then, let's-"

"Wait!" a voice called out from the top of the stone steps.

Dean rolled his eyes. "What now?"

Andrew sprinted down the steps and came to a panting halt in front of Buffy. He gripped on to her arms. "I'm sorry I was such a meany earlier," he said. He stuck out his bottom lip and his eyes widened. "But you're really leaving me?" His voice was so childlike that Buffy just wanted to hug him to her chest and sing him a lullaby. She'd even considered taking him with them, but she knew he had his next set of Watcher's Exams in two weeks and he needed to study if he actually wanted to pass this time.

"Hey, don't worry Andy," Dean consoled him, clapping the smaller man on the back. "She won't be gone long. Besides, Buffy needs you to do something really important for her while she's gone."

"What's that?"

Dean lowered his head so that he could look Andrew in the eyes. "She needs you to be strong and protect the apartment."

Andrew looked up at Dean, idolization shining in his eyes. "I know you're only saying that to make me feel better but I'm just so overwhelmed by your big hazel eyes and your well defined arm muscles that I'm going to let it slide."

Dean coughed and stepped away so quickly that he almost tripped over his own feet. "Right...we're going...now. Buffy, say goodbye to Andrew. Now."

Smirking, Buffy hugged Andrew and kissed him on the cheek. "I'll be back before you know it," Buffy reassured him. "And you could always come and visit."

He nodded and bid goodbye to the rest of the gang before heading back up the steps towards the school. Buffy watched him all all the way until he reached the doors and disappeared inside. When she turned back around, Dean was staring at her with a dumbstruck expression.

"Dude," he said. "he is not coming to visit." And then he climbed in the car and slammed the door behind him.

Buffy laughed loudly as she walked over to the back of the car.

Faith came to stand beside her, a twinkle in her eye and an and a daring grin on her lips. She held her outstretched hand to Buffy. "You ready girlfriend?" she asked.

Buffy looked down at the the offered hand, hesitating only a second before taking it into her own. "Oh yeah," she replied. "I am so ready."


	13. Chapter 13

Halloween

Disclaimer – Don't own anything you might recognize. They all belong to their respective owners.

AN – For the sake of the story, just pretend that Supernatural season 1 started a few months before Halloween instead of actually on the day (it's something I completely spaced about when I first started the story :s)

Halloween

SOUTH CAROLINA

Buffy and Faith giggled hysterically as they opened the door to their motel room. A disgruntled Dean followed behind, with an amused looking Sam bringing up the rear.

"Dean," Faith said, waving a hand in front of her nose. "You seriously need to shower. You smell like a campfire." She turned to look at him and promptly burst into laughter once more.

They had come to a small town in South Carolina to investigate a series of suspicious murders. Each victim had been young, attractive and according to locals, very vain. They had eventually narrowed down the suspect to a Lauren Balogh, a young girl of twenty who had committed suicide the month before after lifelong taunts about her unattractiveness. As they had gone to burn her remains, the ghost had appeared and headed straight for Dean, using his own tools to set him alight. Luckily, he had escaped with only a few minor burns and the loss of half an eyebrow, and Sam had successfully managed to salt and burn her grave.

"I don't see why that bitch came after me anyway," Dean complained back in the motel, ignoring Faith and moving over to the mirror to take a closer look at his singed eyebrow.

"Well, you were the one who figured out the ghost's M.O." Sam smirked at his elder brother. "She went after young, attractive, vain people."

"So you think she went after me because I'm pretty?"

Sam snorted at Dean's obliviousness. "Yeah, I'm sure that's it."

"Whatever, dude." He brought a hand up to cover his eyebrow, and then let it drop back down again. "Well, screw tomorrow night. I'm not leaving this motel room at all until the rest of my eyebrow grows back."

Buffy, who had just flopped down one one of the beds, sat up again abruptly. "Dean! You can't just 'screw' tomorrow night! You promised!"

"Yeah," Faith added. "We wanna party!"

"You always 'wanna party'."

Faith waved a dismissive hand at his comment. "Tomorrow's different. It's Halloween, man!"

"Which is why it's a dumb idea to go out anyway. Halloween sucks."

Sam nodded his head in agreement.

"Whatever, Dull and Duller," Faith countered. "You get to dress up and drink lots of booze. What sucks about that?"

"Besides, Faith and I want to go out. And if you guys don't come with us then we'll be left all alone, all by ourselves, in a big bad club where anyone could attack us poor little girls and then you'll be sorry you didn't come with us to keep us safe." Buffy looked very pleased with her argument.

"But you're slayers," Sam pointed out. "If someone tried to attack either one of you, you could break them into little pieces in a second."

Her face fell. "Yeah, that argument's never really gonna work with us, is it?"

"Anyway, it's not even about it being Halloween. It's about the fact that half of my freakin' eyebrow is missing!"

Buffy reached out and grabbed a hold of Dean's hand. "Please?" she begged, sticking out her bottom lip. "Pretty please? I'll even draw on the rest of your eyebrow for you if it makes you feel any better."

Dean looked down at her and cocked his half an eyebrow. As if he was going to be able to say no to that pout. "Fine," he grumbled. "But I am not dressing up."

"Me neither," Sam spoke up, somewhat surprised that his brother had given up so easily. But if they were all going...

Faith gave an airy laugh as she opened the door to their adjoining room. "Yes you are." Though her face held an amused expression, her tone of voice was steely and held no room for objections.

Sam gulped and looked over at Dean. "Guess we're dressing up for Halloween then."

The next evening, Dean was just changing into his costume when he heard the bathroom door opening. Looking up to see Sam exiting, he burst into loud peals of laughter. "Seriously? You dressed as Santa?"

Sam shrugged bashfully and kicked his boot on the floor. "It's all they had left at the store. Well, this and 'Beach Barbie'."

"Should have gone for the barbie." Dean chuckled again and shook his head.

"Well, what are you supposed to be?" Sam asked petulantly.

Dean opened up his arms and looked himself up and down, and then back at Sam as if it was obvious. "What do you think I'm supposed to be?"

"I dunno."

"I'm Brendan Fraser...from The Mummy?"

Sam stared at his brother for the longest time. "Why?" he questioned eventually.

Dean shrugged. "'Cause I get to wear a gun and no one will think anything of it." Yeah, that and that other reason...

"Right. Whatever, man. Where are the girls?"

"Still getting ready next door. Hold on." He moved over and banged on the door of the adjoining room. "What the hell are you doing?" he called. "You've been in there forever."

The door opened a little and Faith stuck out her head. "We're not ready yet."

Dean rolled his eyes. "How long will you be? Sam and I are ready to head out."

"Hang on a sec." Faith's head disappeared and Dean heard the sound of she and Buffy murmuring through the door. Before he could move closer so that he could hear them clearer, Faith's head was back. "We're gonna be another half hour. Why don't you guys head on out and make a start?"

"But how will you know where we are?"

"It's a small town. How many clubs can there be?"

Dean nodded his head, conceding her point. "Fine. Come find us when you're ready. But just remember you two are the ones who were whining about coming out tonight."

Faith grinned, ignoring his grumbles and disappearing behind the closed door once more.

"No way!" Buffy exclaimed, as she and Faith stood side by side outside on the street. They were both looking up at the name of one of the clubs. "You don't think..."

In neon pink, the flashing light read 'Willy's Place'.

"Nah," Faith dismissed. "Come on, it's not like there ain't more than one tacky Willy in the world. This could be anyone's place."

"I guess."

"We could go check it out though."

"Do you think the guys are in there?"

"Well, they weren't in that other place. And this is the only other bar we've come across."

"Good point."

A devil and a pirate strolled past them and wolf whistled, leering at the pair hungrily.

"Let's just go inside," Faith suggested.

"Yes please."

Dean leaned back in his seat and huffed, checking his watch for the fourth time in ten minutes.

Sam watched his brother bemusedly. "Dean, chill out. They'll be here soon."

"Hey, I am chilled. I'm always chilled. But they said they'd be half an hour and it's already been over an hour."

"Are you worried they've been hurt or something."

"No. I'm worried that we're waiting here for them like total idiots when neither of us even wanted to come out tonight in the first place."

"They'll get here. You know what girls are like. Why are you so stressed about this anyway?"

"I'm not stressed."

"Are you sure? Because if there's something you wanna talk about..."

"Like what?"

"I don't know." Sam shrugged casually. "Faith? Buffy..."

"Why would I want to talk about Buffy?"

Dean was doing that closed off thing he liked to do so well. Sam sighed. "Never mind. Forget I said anything."

"Gladly."

As they finished off their beers, they talked a little more about the case and where they thought they should head out to next. Sam wanted to go to Idaho where a series of parents seemed to be going crazy and killing their children, and Dean wanted to head into California where a couple of women had disappeared and one eyewitness had sworn blind that they had been taken by trolls. Dean suspected that Sam was likely to win this one.

"If we pack up and head out first thing tomorrow morning we can get there by..." Sam's voice trailed off as he stared at something behind Dean's shoulder.

"Sam?" Dean waved a hand in front of his brother's face. "Sammy, what?"

Sam broke out into a toothy grin and he nodded towards the entrance of the bar. "Dude, check it out."

Sighing, Dean swiveled around in his chair, his frown turning into an amused chuckle once he realized what his brother was talking about. Faith was stood at the top of the stairway, right next to the entrance, one hand on her hip as she surveyed the room. She was wearing a 1950's style sundress – white, with red roses. It was belted tightly at the waist and poofed outwards up to where it stopped just below her knees. Her hair was pulled back into an elegant bun, and she looked far from the Faith that both of them had come to know.

Dean's chuckles came to an abrupt halt as a woman shyly stepped out from behind Faith. His mouth opened but no sound came out as he surveyed her, time seeming to disappear completely. She was a goddess. Literally. Her long, simple white wrap was belted together underneath her breasts with only a gold piece of rope, and one perfect leg was sticking out – thigh to heel. Long, chestnut hair fell in waves around her waist, held back from her face by a crown of golden leaves. It was Buffy. Of course it was Buffy, because no other woman on this earth had the power to render him dry mouthed and speechless and crazy and horny all from a single glance in the way that she could.

The rest of the world came back into focus as his brother stood up and waved his arms to get their attention. Goal achieved, he sat back down, still grinning. "Man, they look awesome don't they? Maybe Halloween's not so bad after all. I guess it could be fun."

"Whatever, Santa," Dean quipped, shaking himself out of his Buffy induced daze.

Buffy giggled as she spotted Sam stand up from his table to wave them over.

"What a dork," Faith crowed as they took in his Santa costume, though there was a good natured look in her eyes that showed Buffy that she was only joking.

"Maybe he's trying to make a point," Buffy suggested as they descended the stairs.

"Oh yeah, and what would that be?"

Buffy shrugged. "He doesn't like Halloween, so maybe he's pretending it's a different holiday. Christmas."

Faith snorted and paused so that she could turn look at her fully. "God I'd love to know what goes through your mind, sometimes." They continued onwards towards the table. "What's Dean dressed up as? I can't see."

"Me neither. I'm surprised he actually bothered..."

As they reached the table, the two men stood up to make space for Buffy and Faith. Buffy glanced at Dean and her mouth dropped open. "Rick O'Connell!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together excitedly. "That's like, my favoritest film of all time! I love him!"

"I know."

"What?"

Dean's eyes widened at his slip. "Uh...what?" He was kind of screwed if she found out that he'd only dressed up like this to impress her.

Thankfully, Buffy was far too mesmerized by his outfit to have paid any real attention. He had it all down. The knee length boots, the shirt, the blue neck scarf. The very tight, tan breeches. Oh boy, the very tight, tan breeches. They clung to him perfectly, and they were making her feel a little hot inside. "You look great," she remarked breathlessly.

"So do you. You look...beautiful. I like the hair. Brunette suits you."

They smiled at each other, and would have kept on doing so had Faith not cleared her throat expectantly.

Dean turned to her. "Hey! You look awesome too!" But his response was delayed and a little forced and they all knew it.

Faith crossed her arms and looked between Buffy and Dean, clearly unimpressed. Her eyes were narrowed and Buffy thought it looked like she might have been trying to decipher the odd moment that had just occurred between she and Dean. Well, she hoped someone would figure it out, because she had absolutely no clue what was going on. Not that anything was going on, she quickly amended to herself. Because she didn't even like the guy. Not at all. Not even with his skin tight breeches. Oh dear.

"I think I'll go get a drink," Buffy announced, desperate for anything to dispel of the awkward silence. She moved to get up but Dean put a hand on her arm to stop her.

"No worries, I'll get them."

Coward, Buffy thought. Oh yeah, Buffy could read him just fine, and he was just as uncomfortable with the sticky situation as she was. Only now he was pretending to be all generous with the drink buying when he was really just looking for an escape. And not fair! He had totally stolen hers!

After determining everybody's order, he got up to leave, squeezing past Buffy on his way to the bar. Buffy gulped as she got a good eyeful of his breeches clad butt. Yeah, those pants hid nothing. She wondered if she could somehow persuade Dean to wear those pants every single day for the rest of his entire life.

She watched him walk away, and then turned her eyes back to the table. Faith was staring at her with a fierce scowl, and Buffy instantly knew that she'd just seen her checking out her boyfriend's ass. Uh oh.

"Uh...I'm gonna go help with those drinks!" she jabbered. She hoped her voice didn't sound as suspiciously high pitched to Faith and Sam as it did to herself.

Faith said nothing, so Buffy jumped up and scampered after Dean.

"Oh my God! Willy! It is you!"

Dean started in surprise as he heard Buffy's excited voice speak up beside him. He glanced from her to the weaselly looking guy behind the bar, and back again. "You know this dude?"

"Slayer? That you? Well blow me over, it is you! What are you doing here?" Willy's face dropped. "You're not gonna punch me are ya? 'Cause I gotta tell you I don't go for none of that demon stuff no more. So whatever you're after, I know nothing. 'Willy's Place' is strictly human only."

Buffy waved a dismissive hand. "No. I'm just here to party. No business on the agenda, I promise."

"That's good. What're you having? Drinks are on me."

"Well all right!" Dean cheered. "I like this guy already."

They gave him their order and he busied himself with pouring their drinks.

"So this is where you set yourself up after Sunnydale?" Buffy asked interestedly.

"Well, I tried Alabama, and then Alaska, but none of those places really did it for me, you know? And then I met a lovely woman by the name of Renee – that's her over there." He pointed to a plump blonde woman pouring drinks at the other end of the bar. "She made an honest man outta me, and then we found ourselves a place up here."

"That's really nice, Willy," Buffy cooed, feeling some kind of nostalgia for the old Sunnydale days. "I'm glad you're happy."

"What about you?" he asked as he placed their glasses down in front of them. "This your fella over here?" He glanced at Dean. "Handsome guy. Looks a lot friendlier than your previous manly friends."

Buffy blushed. "No! No. This is Faith's uh...friend."

Willy turned a shade pale. "Faith's here. She's not still...uh, evil, is she?"

"No!"

Willy, clearly not quite believing her, soon moved on to other customers, and Buffy picked up two of the glasses so that she could take them back over to their table. Dean moved to follow her, and then paused. "Wait...Faith was evil?"

Back at the table, Faith's earlier bad temper seemed to have vanished and she was now in high spirits. Whether that was due to the arrival of alcohol or the fact that she had won a twenty off of Sam after an arm wrestle, Buffy wasn't sure.

Hours passed, and eventually Faith seemed to grow bored. She threw her arms above her head and yawned unconvincingly. "Man, I'm beat," she lied, looking straight at Dean with a suggestive smirk. "Why don't you take me back to the motel room and we can get me off...to sleep." She winked cheekily.

But Dean wasn't even looking in her direction, let alone concentrating on anything she was really saying. "I was thinking me and Buffy should do a patrol tonight," he said. "It's bound to be crazy with it being Halloween."

Buffy frowned. "Haven't we just spent the past hour telling you how Halloween is evil's night off?"

"No, you've just spent the past hour telling us about all the messed up things that have happened on Halloween," he corrected. "So your 'bad guys don't like to come out on Halloween' theory is a whole bunch of crap."

"Yeah, but most of those things that happened were all down to humans. I mean, the turning into our costume thing was Ethan's fault, the frat party disaster happened because of a bunch of stupid collage boys." Buffy paused and pulled a face. "Dawn did almost get turned one year 'cause a few vamps were trying to be badass 'rebels'..."

"Well there you go." Dean seemed satisfied that he had won and was already standing up. "Do you really want some girl just like Dawn getting hurt because we didn't go out just in case something might not have happened?"

Damn it, he was right. She couldn't exactly shirk her responsibilities, even if she did want to stay and party. And he had to go and play the sister card on her. Asswipe. She heaved a gigantic sigh. "I guess." She studiously avoided looking at Faith as she stood up. "You guys might as well stay and have some fun. This town's pretty small. I bet there's only one or two graveyards in the whole place. We'll do a sweep and hopefully won't be back too late."

"Be careful," Sam warned, as he always did.

After they had left, Faith and Sam sat in a very awkward silence for a long, long time. Faith's expression was stony, and Sam wasn't really sure what to say. He was pretty certain that she'd never been turned down for...that...ever. Especially not by Dean.

He coughed. "Do you, uh...do you want another drink?"

"No." Ouch. Who knew so much venom could be forced into one single word.

"Wanna dance?"

"No."

"Want me to leave you alone?"

"Yes."

Oh. Well then. He looked at her closely to see if she was joking. She wasn't. "Right," he said slowly. "I should probably get back to the motel anyway. Gonna need to catch up on my sleep if we're heading out early tomorrow."

She glared at him expectantly, waiting for him to leave.

Once he'd gone, Faith sighed pitifully and downed the rest of her drink, suddenly feeling very alone. She shouldn't have been such a bitch to him. Damn, she didn't really know what was wrong with her. Life was great! She was on the road with her best friend and a couple of hunks, fighting evil and kicking ass. What more could she want? Maybe she was just antsy because she hadn't actually gotten a kill in with that bitch of a ghost. Salting and burning was good and all, but it didn't exactly leave you with that wicked post slay feeling. And Dean wasn't making things any easier. Whenever she got this way – got this unsatisfied feeling – she knew the best fix was a good, hard screw, and Dean had been the perfect solution. Good sex, without the pesky feelings involved. But they hadn't actually had sex since before they killed that Hatoss dude, and man was she getting frustrated. And she knew it wasn't her fault, because she'd been making come on after come on. It was him. And despite what she'd been thinking earlier, she didn't think it was Buffy's fault either. So Dean might have the hots for Buffy, who didn't? There was no way he'd ever do anything about it. He might be a player but he understood the bond she and Buffy held. It was similar to his and Sam's in a way. And there was no way he'd ever do anything to jeopardize that. Same went for Buffy. They were closer than they'd ever been. Buffy would never do anything to betray her.

Okay, she seriously needed to get over this. When had she become so damn paranoid? She glanced at her empty glass and frowned. A drink would make a good start. She moved over towards the bar, grinning as she spotted a hulk of a guy dressed up as a vampire. Well wasn't that just precious? She winked at him and he smirked back, edging closer as he looked her up and down appreciatively.

An hour later, she was crying out in pleasure as he screwed her up against his apartment door.

"So?" Dean asked, as he and Buffy walked side by side through the only graveyard in town.

"So what?" a confused Buffy wanted to know.

Dean shrugged bashfully. "So are you gonna stay? With me..us, I mean. Are you gonna stay with us?" Aw crap, he could not get his words out. "It's just you said you were going to wait until after the first hunt and then decide whether you wanted to stay or-"

"Do you want me to stay?"

"Yes," he answered instantly.

"I want to stay, too."

"So...you're staying."

"Guess I am."

"Good."

"Good?"

"Yeah."

They lapsed into silence, and Buffy was left wondering when things had changed between them. It was subtle. A change that she hadn't even realized was occurring. They'd been fighting less and less, and then having actual conversations more and more. And dare she say it, beginning to actually enjoy each others company. It was strange. When had they become...friends? "You're still very annoying, though," she thought it important to mention.

"Yeah? Well you're still a bitch."

This was more like it. "Wow, and the originality just keeps on coming."

Dean was about to respond when the beam of a flashlight shone directly into his eyes. Both he and Buffy fell into a fighting position as they tried to discover the source of its location.

"Stop right there!" a voice sounded. The beam lowered, and they saw that it was no bad guy, just a police officer. "Mind explaining to me what you're doing out here?" he asked.

"Just taking a walk," Dean proclaimed quickly.

"In a graveyard?"

"Yuh huh."

"I only ask because we've had a bit of trouble last night. Wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

"Trouble?"

"Grave desecration. Arson."

Whoops. "Ew!" Buffy expressed, feigning disgusted surprise. "Who would wanna mess around with graves?"

"That's exactly what I'm wondering. Just like I'm wondering what a couple of youngsters like yourselves are doing out here so late at night."

Thinking fast, Dean slipped an arm around Buffy's waist, pinching her when she moved to protest. "Look, officer," he said in a low voice. "We're kind of on a date here. It's Halloween, the stars are out. I thought maybe if I brought her out here she'd get scared and wanna stay a little closer to me, you know?" He winked for effect, and Buffy had to restrain from rolling her eyes.

The police officer crossed his arms. "You're not from around here, are you? It's a small town, I wouldda seen you before."

"No sir, we're just passing through."

"Ah, with that other young man, right? The tall one?"

Dean frowned suspiciously. "Why'd you ask?"

"Because you should have said. He was very pleasant. Asked all sorts of weird questions, but pleasant nonetheless."

That was right. Sam had gone to the station to find out information about the case. "Yeah, that's Sammy alright. Pleasant as a daffodil."

The police officer yawned and checked his watch. "It's getting late, kids. Why don't you get outta here so I can get home to my wife?"

"Will do." Dean nodded and lead Buffy out of the graveyard.

As soon as they hit the pavement outside, Buffy shrugged off his arm and thumped him in the shoulder. "God, could you be any more of a shmuck?"

"Hey, I just saved our hides in there!"

Buffy hated to admit that he was right. And so she wouldn't. "Whatever. This patrol has been a total bust. The only annoying evil out tonight is you."

Dean looked offended. "I'm not evil."

"Just annoying then. Can we just go back to the motel now?"

"Sure. I guess the bad guys really don't come out on Halloween."

"That's because I was right and you were wrong."

"I wasn't wrong, I was just cautious."

"Cautiously wrong."

He looked up into the sky desperately. "Please can I shoot her, God?"

"You know what," Buffy huffed. "I don't even care what you think. Because you're a dork."

"A dork? Summers, that hurts."

"Ugh. And here I was beginning to think you weren't so bad." She turned on her heel and began to stalk in the opposite direction.

"Where are you going?" he called.

"Back to the motel."

Shrugging, he loped after her, slipping his arm back around her waist once he'd reached her. Buffy stopped.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Police officer might be watching."

They both knew he wasn't. They both knew that he had gone almost as soon as he had sent them on their way. Yet neither of them felt compelled to remove his arm. And so he didn't.


	14. Chapter 14

Stitches

Disclaimer – Don't own anything you might recognize. They all belong to their respective owners.

Stitches

NEBRASKA

Buffy groaned quietly as she flipped listlessly through another of the stuffy, tedious books that Sam had insisted on dragging all the way back to the motel room earlier that day. She didn't know what he expected to find – the library in the local town they were staying in was uninspiring at best, and the books on demonology they had discovered were a bunch of crap. Probably written by someone who'd never even seen a demon, let alone faced one off. But Sam had insisted that they at least check them out, and so here they were. And what had they discovered. Yeah, nothing. Buffy would have said 'I told you so' but that might bring attention to the fact that she'd finished her book and Sam would only make her start on another one. He was a little Giles in the making, that was for sure.

And had Buffy ever mentioned how much she hated research? Because she did.

But she had been more than surprised to learn that Faith was actually pretty good at it. No, more than that...she enjoyed it. Which said a whole bunch about how much she'd changed since their days back in Sunnydale. Buffy had asked her about it earlier and Faith had just shrugged and explained that she'd kind of gotten used to it, what with being on the road all the time. She'd had to learn to research for herself because she was by herself.

Not anymore, Buffy thought happily.

She glanced over at Faith. Right now, the book in her lap had been forgotten and she was peering over Sam's shoulder in interest as he studied something on his laptop, probably in regards to the demon they were hunting. And Dean...Dean was laying sprawled across one of the beds, an open book covering his face. He appeared to be asleep, but he was most definitely faking. He was snoring lightly, and usually when he slept he didn't make any noise at all. Buffy knew this because for the past couple of nights since they'd arrived in town the four of them had had to share a room as there were no adjoining rooms available, and the only two rooms that the motel did have free were on different floors and they were wary of being separated should something happen to any of them.

They weren't even really supposed to be in the town in the first place, but Dean had gotten hungry as they passed through and had insisted on stopping for food. It was in the diner that they'd heard talk of a local man who'd been mauled to death by what was assumed must have been an enormous sized bear.

"Thing is," Liz the over friendly waitress had speculated as she'd preened under Dean's penetrating gaze. "ain't no bear ever been near this town in all the years as I can remember. But I guess poor old Eddie just got unlucky."

A quick, horrifying visit to the morgue was enough to inform them that no bear on earth was big enough to have claws as large as the ones that had clearly ripped into 'poor old Eddie', and so the case had formed. Needing more evidence before they could start research, they had headed out in pairs in search of the beast which, according to Buffy as she later relayed the details to Dean and Faith, had been 'big, scaly and horny' – something which had amused Dean to no end, even after Buffy had explained that it wasn't actually hornyhorny, it was just horny, as in it had horns. She and Sam had stumbled across the demon nesting in an abandoned warehouse, and had gone a good few rounds with it before admitting defeat after it had simply laughed its strange demony laugh once Buffy had run it through with her sword. Not knowing how to kill it, and more than a little worse for wear, they had done the only thing they could do and ran.

Which led them to where they were now. Researching first what the heck this ugly looking demon thing was, and secondly, how in the frig to kill it.

Buffy sighed and moved over to look outside the motel window. It was a clear night, and the moon was out, full and shining. She was feeling restless. Boy did she hope they'd find out what the hell this thing was already so they could go out there and kick its scaly butt already.

"Aha!" Sam exclaimed loudly, causing her to jump and knock her elbow on the window-frame in surprise.

"What is it?"

"Found our guy." Sam spoke with satisfaction.

Buffy moved over behind him and Faith so that she could take a closer look. And there he was. It wasn't a very good drawing, but it was definitely their demon. "Wow, you can find anything on the internet these days," Buffy observed. "What's it say about him?"

"Here we go," Sam said, pulling up the information. "It says...that it's a Waspaw demon. Apparently they're vicious, like to live alone" he recited. "they don't feed off of humans, but they do feed off death...which is just as bad, I guess. They're still killing, either way."

"So, that's why it killed Eddie," Buffy surmised. "To...feed, or whatever. And also why he was ripped apart but not missing any organs."

"I suppose so."

"That's sick."

"Yeah."

"How do we kill it."

Sam pulled a face. "Uh...it doesn't say."

"Perfect." Buffy huffed and flopped back down onto the bed.

"We just need to keep looking," Sam assured her.

She stood up again and stretched, glancing back out of the window. "I have to get out of this room. Maybe I should do a sweep of the town, make sure no one else is getting ripped up into itty bitty human parts?"

"Do you really think you should?" Sam asked. "I mean, we know what it is but we don't know how to kill this thing yet. We don't even know its weak spots. What if you do come across it?"

But Buffy was already rooting around in her weapons bag. "Then I'll just take his head off," she chirped, pulling out an axe and twirling it around carelessly. "That usually works, right?"

Sam looked conflicted. "You shouldn't go out alone. This demon was pretty strong."

"I'll go," Dean's voice sounded from beneath his book.

Ha! She knew he'd been faking!

"I swear to God, if I hafta sit around this room one minute longer I'm gonna go crazy," Dean continued. As he rolled off of the bed, Buffy leaned over and handed him a sword. "Nice!"

"Faith? You coming?" Buffy queried as she slipped into her jacket.

"Nah," Faith replied disinterestedly, still studying the screen. "I'm kind of into this research thing. This demon's pretty interesting in a gross, I wanna pull you apart kinda way."

Buffy barely had time to register that yes, Faith had just turned down patrol before Dean was holding open the motel door and telling her to hurry her skinny ass up. She would have punched him in the face right there had she not recognized the same desperation to get out of the room in him that was crawling around inside of her.

"Hey B!" Faith called. Buffy turned and Faith quickly threw her the dagger that she kept on her person at all times. "Take care of yourself. This thing's pretty tough." Faith's voice was purposely nonchalant, but Buffy could feel just how much Faith meant it.

"Thank you," she said sincerely, tucking the dagger away, before following Dean out of the room and into the night."

"Finally!" Dean moaned as they hit the first chill of the night air. "All that researching was making my eyes hurt."

Buffy looked at him with a peeved expression. "You've been pretending to sleep for the past hour and a half!"

Dean winced. Damn, he thought he'd been pretty convincing. "I was resting. Because my eyes hurt." He grinned smugly.

She rolled her eyes and walked a little faster. "Whatever. I am so not in the mood to deal with the annoyingness that is you tonight."

He paused and frowned after her. The annoyingness that was him? He was the annoying one? She couldn't even form proper sentences without mashing up her freakin' words! Growling, he stomped after her, resolving not to talk to her for the rest of the entire night. See how annoying she'd find him then!

They trundled on in complete silence for the next hour. Buffy, having taken note of the uncharacteristic quietness emitting from her companion, had stubbornly decided that there was no way that she was going to be the first one to break it, and that she would only talk once he did.

And so they made their way through the town, only acknowledging that the other was even there to shoot dirty looks their way once every so often.

After they found nothing in town, Buffy led the way towards the warehouses, hoping that the demon would still be there.

If I was talking to her, Dean thought smugly when they discovered the warehouse was a no go, I could have told her ages ago that the demon would have upped and moved nests by now. His pleased expression faded when he realized that this was causing him a nuisance along with Buffy.

Still wordless, the pair made their way through an empty forest, and then a not so empty park.

"There it is!" Dean pointed out excitedly, and then, "Aw, hell!" as he realized that he had lost their unspoken challenge.

Buffy made a mental note to act smugly later on, before checking out the Waspaw demon for herself from their concealed position behind a large set of bushes. It was prowling. She checked her watch – nine pm. Was that too late for people to come through the park? Whatever, she couldn't risk it. She lifted up her axe with a firm grip. "This could get dangerous. You wait here," she demanded briskly, barely even sparing Dean a glance before slipping out of the bushes and heading straight towards the demon.

Dean watched her go with an open mouth. Sanctimonious bitch! Like hell was he gonna let her get all the action!

The demon sensed Buffy moments before her axe imbedded in his neck, and he twisted around and grabbed the offending weapon, snatching it out of her grasp easily and tossing it away. She grimaced and ducked as he swung a large claw at her, stretching back up to punch him with as much strength as she could muster. The Waspaw wasn't even fazed, and as Buffy went to take a step back to regroup, it charged her and kicked out her legs from underneath her. She hit the ground hard and tried to gasp as the air was knocked out of her. His enormous foot came to rest upon her belly, holding her down despite how much she struggled. And with no chance of escape, she watched helplessly as a long, sharp claw plunged down towards her chest.

"Hey Jerkoff!" Dean roared furiously, successfully distracting the demon from its task. Dean, no more than a couple of feet away, lifted up his gun and aimed it right at the Waspaw's head. "Feed off of this!" and he pulled the trigger.

The demon howled, grasping its head and stumbling back a few paces, giving Dean enough time to grab Buffy and pull her to her feet.

"Let's get out of here," Buffy suggested quickly, tugging on Dean's arm to get him to run while the demon was still distracted.

"Screw that!" He shrugged her off and ran at the Waspaw, sword in hand. He managed to get a good swipe in to the chest before the demon came back to its senses.

Dean didn't see the claw coming his way, but Buffy did.

"Dean!" she screamed, her heart in her throat as she lunged towards them.

Thanking the holy heavens that she was the slayer, and therefore equipped with extra speediness, Buffy managed to reach Dean before the would be deadly claw did and pushed him hard towards the ground. But his rescue came at a cost, and she only succeeded in taking his place.

She gasped as she felt the searing pain of a large claw slashing at her belly, and with a stumble, she fell to the ground next to Dean.

And though the bullet had wounded the Waspaw, it hadn't stopped him, and he still kept on coming. From the ground, Dean shot another two bullets into the demon's head, and Buffy used the opportunity to scramble up off the floor, dragging Dean up alongside her.

"Come on!" she insisted, pulling him with one arm and holding onto her bleeding wound with the other. "We have to run!"

"Why?" Dean yelled fiercely. "We've got this thing here! It's weakened! We can kill it right now!"

He hadn't seen Buffy get injured, and the black sweater she was wearing, along with the darkness of the night sky, concealed her loss of blood. "Please!" she begged. "Let's just go!" She didn't give him any more chances to protest, instead gripping onto his arm and tugging him along after her as she ran.

Angrily, Dean followed her – though not by choice. They made it out of the park and ran for a long, and in Buffy's case painful, ten minutes before they were sure that they had lost the demon.

Dean stopped abruptly in the middle of the road and span around to face her. The moon was under the cover of clouds and there was very little light to see by. Buffy could only see Dean's dark outline but she could tell by his shaking breaths how enraged he was that she had pulled them out of the fight. About to tell him of her wound, she stopped. There was something inside of her refusing to get the words out, refusing to let him know she was weak.

"Do you wanna tell me what the hell that was about?" he yelled. "We had that freakin' thing!"

"We were losing," she replied, trying desperately to keep the pain out of her voice, and to calm down her quickly shallowing breaths.

Dean snorted. "We got knocked down a couple of times. Is that all it takes to scare you off? Because if so then you are not the person I thought you were."

If she weren't becoming so dizzy from lack of blood then Buffy was pretty sure she'd be kicking his ass right about now. These words coming from him were hurting her more than she cared to admit, but she really couldn't think about it when there was a gaping whole in her chest, and any thoughts of asking him for assistance vanished as she heard him mumble something about her being 'chicken'.

"Let's just go back to the motel," she said through gritted teeth. "We need to regroup and find out how to kill it."

"Whatever." Dean threw his hands up in the air and began to stalk away from her, not even bothering to check if she was following. He was infuriated! What if the demon went out and killed someone else tonight just because Little Miss Princess Buffy couldn't be bothered to get off her ass and fight it. Since he'd come to know her, he'd began to count on her to be the one always ready for a fight, and now she had them running away like a couple of amateurs.

Behind him, Buffy sighed and closed her eyes as she pressed her hand more firmly over her wound, before taking a deep breath and following after him.

It didn't take them long to get back to the motel, and Buffy winced as they approached the bright lights. She really didn't want to go in like this. Dean would probably get off on her pain and Faith would be guilty that she hadn't been there to stop it.

"Hey," she called out to Dean, who had stayed an angry few paces ahead of her their entire journey. "Hey!" she called again when he ignored her the first time.

"What?" he snapped, twirling around to face her, clearly still pissed off.

"I just need to talk to the motel manager a second. You go on up to the room and I'll be right up."

"Fine." He didn't even hang around to ask her what she needed to talk to the manager about, which Buffy was glad for because she hadn't thought up an excuse. She watched him enter the motel and waited for a minute, before heading in through the motel doors after him.

Twenty minutes later, Faith looked up from her book to glance at her watch. "I thought you said Buffy was only going to be a minute?" she asked Dean.

Dean, who had been sulking near the TV, looked down at his own watch and frowned. "She said she was going to talk to the manager."

"About what?"

He shrugged. "Don't know. Didn't ask. I'm not her keeper."

"Let me guess, you two have been fighting again?" Sam didn't even take his eyes away from the computer screen to roll them, so used to this particular pattern as he was. Although he had to admit, the two of them hadn't been fighting nearly as much as they had when they'd first met, so at least things were progressing. Until tonight, clearly.

Dean ignored his brother and went back to the TV.

Faith picked up her cell phone and called Buffy's number. "No answer," she said eventually.

"Whatever, dude. She's probably just griping at the manager for some imagined reason."

"Maybe." But Faith looked slightly distressed even as she went back to her book.

Another fifteen minutes passed, and Dean hated the fact that he was beginning to worry as Buffy still did not appear. He checked his watch at least once every thirty seconds, something of which did not go unnoticed by the other occupants of the room. Finally, he stood up and cracked his knuckles agitatedly. Following in Faith's footsteps, he dialed Buffy's number...still no answer. Man he hoped this had nothing to do with how much of a jerk to her he'd admittedly been earlier. "Do you think we should go look for her?"

A relieved Faith nodded. "Yeah," she said, standing up also. "I don't like this. Buffy always let's us know where she's gonna be."

Faith pulled Sam up by the arm and the three of them grabbed their coats and went down to the motel entrance. "You guys check outside," Dean suggested. "I'll go talk to the manager."

Faith and Sam nodded in agreement and the three of them went their separate ways.

Okay, the manager was clearly an idiot.

"Short girl," Dean described in an exasperated tone for the third time, holding his hand up so high in the air. "Blonde hair, skinny. A couple of years younger than me. You seen her or not?"

Oliver was actually not an idiot at all. But he was short and fat and balding and he didn't like being talked to like some kind of jackass, especially not by young studs. In fact, he hated young studs more than anyone in the world. Especially buff ones. "She hot?" he inquired dumbly.

"Oh yeah." Perhaps he shouldn't have answered that so eager. Good thing Faith and Sam weren't around to hear him. "She has this really cute nose and lips that are like...when she's trying not to laugh they get all pursed and it's so-"

"Hey buddy, I asked if she was hot, not for a personal homage."

If Dean wasn't so manly, he'd have blushed. "So have you seen her?"

The manager pulled a faux puzzled face and eyed the wallet sticking out of Dean's pocket obviously. "I'm not sure. Can't really remember."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Dude, seriously?"

Oliver the manager shrugged and smirked evilly.

Huffing, Dean pulled out a twenty and slapped it down on the counter. "Have. You. Seen. Her?"

"You know," Oliver replied, placing one pointed finger on the twenty and sliding it towards his side of the desk. "I think I just might have. Not forty minutes ago there was a pretty young blonde in here asking if the other room was still available."

Dean clenched his jaw. So that's how it was, was it? They have an argument and she gets all high and mighty and decides she's too good to share a room with the rest of them? "Room number?" His voice was acidic, but still the manager insisted on testing him.

"You know, my memory's getting kind of bad in my old age, I'm not sure I-"

Dean slammed down another twenty so hard that the whole counter shook. "Room number. Now."

Oliver gulped. "52."

Room number 52 was on the top floor, and Dean had stormed all five sets of stairs within the minute. Soon, he was outside Buffy's door, banging as hard as his fist would allow. Unsurprisingly, she didn't answer, though a few choice words were shouted out from behind other people's doors, and he could not describe how much he didn't care that he'd interrupted their precious sleep.

Dropping to his knees and rifling through his pockets for his lock-picking set, he set to work on the door and had it opened in seconds. They really needed to start staying in more secure motels.

The door pushed open with a low creak, and Dean was surprised to find the room empty, though the light was on. Dean's heart began to beat very loudly in his ears when he realized that the light switch was covered in bloody fingerprints, as was the wall around it, although they became smeared the further into the room they got.

"Buffy?" he called, striding forward. "Buffy?"

A quiet whimper sounded and he span around, spotting the light shining through the crack in the partially open bathroom door. He moved closer and pushed it open wider.

Every single little speck of anger completely vanished the second he spotted her, perched on the edge of the bathtub. She'd pulled her sweater up just underneath her breasts and everything suddenly became painfully clear to him as he took in the large, bloody gash, starting from just above her belly button and curling right around the side of her chest.

She looked up at him as he entered, and somehow didn't seem to be surprised to see him there. Well, she shouldn't be, he thought. He always seemed to be where she was.

Her eyes were dry, but he could tell that it was a forced effort. They were red and her cheeks were blotchy and she was clearly in a lot of agony as she tried to twist herself around to patch herself up. God, she was stubborn. Why the hell couldn't she have just told him about this before? Although he knew the answer to that – she was just as pigheaded as he was, especially about showing weaknesses. It made her feel powerless. And he hadn't exactly encouraged share time, what with the whole being a gigantic assbag to her thing.

Without saying a word, he dropped to his knees in front of her like a fallen man and pulled her hands away gently so that he could take a closer look. Holy crap, it was a deep one. It must have been done when they were battling the Waspaw and that was well over an hour ago and it was still bleeding freely. And that was a point...he didn't even remember this happening. He was sure he'd kept an eye on her the whole time she had been fighting, except for that time when she'd pushed him to the ground...

And it was with a painful jolt to the heart that Dean realized that she'd gone and gotten herself wounded trying to protect his ungrateful hide. She'd pushed him out of the way and gotten hit with the damn claw herself just so he didn't. She'd saved his life, and he hadn't even known.

His voice both felt and sounded raw when he next spoke. "You need stitches. We should get you to a hospital."

Buffy shook her head vehemently. "No, I don't...I'm fine, honestly."

"Sweetheart," he said softly. "You're losing blood. You need tending to."

"I know, I'll just...do it myself. I don't want to go to a hospital. Please."

There was something in the sound of her voice that halted any further argument he had planned to make. "Okay, no hospitals. But you still need stitches."

"Okay."

"Good girl." He pushed himself off of the floor and looked around expectantly. "Does this fleabag of a motel room have a first aid kit or what?"

Buffy handed him the small green box and he looked inside at the meager contents in disgust. "Jesus," he huffed. Rooting through his coat pockets, he pulled out a silver flask before taking off his jacket and throwing it to the side.

"You carry a flask around with you?" Buffy asked incredulously.

"Yuh huh," he answered, unscrewing the cap.

"Please tell me it has holy water in it."

"Not quite." He took a large gulp of the whiskey, closing his eyes in relief as the fiery substance floated down his throat, before holding it out to her.

She took it gingerly, dangling it between her thumb and forefinger as if it were something dirty. "You do know I'm not drinking this, right?"

"You do know that we have no other form of pain relief, right?"

She winced, conceding his point and brought it up for a long slug.

"Easy," he commented, trying very hard to hide his grin as she coughed loudly and stuck her tongue out in disgust. His grin faded, however, when the action caused her to gasped in pain. He knelt down in front of her once more. "Uh, you should probably take your sweater off."

Buffy raised her eyebrows in alarm. "But I'm not wearing anything underneath it."

"Not even a bra?" He tried not to sound too excited.

"Yes, dummy, I'm wearing a bra. I just meant I'm not wearing a vest or anything."

"Well...good. Because you'd probably have to take that off too It'll just get in my way otherwise." So he was lying. So she could probably just hold her sweater up with her hands while he worked. This was far more satisfying. For him.

With a huff, Buffy held her arms up and nodded.

Taking the hint, Dean curled his fingers around the bottom of her sweater, lifting it up...slowly. He allowed his fingers to purposely brush against her smooth skin, and he was sure he felt her shiver beneath his touch. Reluctantly, he finally pulled it up and over her head.

"This is gonna sting. A lot," he warned, picking up the flask again so that he could pour the alcohol over her wound.

Buffy bit her lip. Hard. She couldn't even watch as Dean threaded a long piece of cotton through the sharp needle.

"Hold on to my shoulder if you want," Dean offered. "But uh, don't break it or anything."

As he set to work, Buffy kept her head turned away. Her lip was still wedged in between her teeth and her eyes were clamped shut. Her skin was pale and clammy, and her breaths were shallow.

"You know," Dean, still stitching, said knowingly after a quick glance to her face. "The first time my dad ever had to stitch me up without pain relief, I cried like a baby."

Buffy opened one watery eye. "Really?"

"No," he lied. "But there might have been one or two...manly tears."

"And some masculine grunting?"

"With a couple of curse words thrown in for good measure."

"How old were you?"

"Fifteen."

She raised her eyebrows disbelievingly.

"Eighteen?" And when she still clearly didn't believe him, he admitted begrudgingly, "Twenty."

Buffy giggled and a single tear escaped the corner of her eye.

"That's my girl," he encouraged. She was allowing herself to cry in front of him, and though he hated to see her in so much pain, he was glad that she was opening herself up to let him in.

When he was done, he poured more of the whiskey over his finished work to clean it and took another swig. He offered it to her but this time she firmly declined with a hard shake of her head. Reaching out, he picked up a hand towel and patted dry the area around her injury as gently as he could. "All done."

"Thank you," she replied shyly.

Before he even knew what he was doing, Dean, still on his knees, leaned forward and pressed the softest of kisses to her belly button, just below where the injury began.

Buffy withheld a gasp at the unexpected action, but couldn't help closing her eyes in pleasure.

"You took the hit for me," Dean croaked, resting his trembling hands on Buffy's knees and bringing her out of her daze. "Why?"

Startled, Buffy looked down. She hadn't been expecting that question, not at all. Although logically she should have.

And what could she reply?

That she'd have done it for anyone? That she was the slayer and it was therefore her duty to save others at all costs, even her life?

Or she could reply that she'd seen that damned claw heading towards him about to deliver a fatal blow and her heart had almost shattered into a million pieces at the thought of him being dead. Or that twice now she'd dreamed of him and both of those dreams had been the best and the happiest dreams she'd ever had. Or that sometimes when she looked at him her heart started beating faster even though she knew that he was with Faith and she was totally breaking the sister code and if Faith ever found out that when he smiled at her he made her tummy feel all squirmy inside she'd probably kick both of their asses. Hard.

So instead, she lifted up one of her hands and raked her fingers softly through his hair. "I like your hair," she said flippantly. "I couldn't let hair like this go to waste." She hoped he'd understand, and that he wouldn't press harder for things she couldn't say. And he seemed to, because when she brought her hand down to his cheek, he simply turned his head and kissed her palm, before standing up and holding out his own hands to help her up. They moved into the other room and Buffy sank down onto the bed with a relieved sigh.

"Crap," Dean cursed as he took his phone out of the pocket of the jacket he had just picked up from the floor. When the hell had he put it on silent? Oh, that's right, when they had been in the park. And then he'd been so mad that he'd forgotten to turn it back up. He was such a bonehead.

"What's wrong?"

"Got a dozen missed calls off of Faith and Sam. They were out looking for you. Probably looking for me now too."

"Do me a favor?" Buffy asked, leaning cautiously back against the headboard.

"Sure."

"When you go back down to the room can you just make something up about where I am?"

"You're not coming back with me?"

She shook her head. "I'll stay up here tonight. Faith'll only feel guilty that I got hurt and she wasn't there to help me. She'll blame herself even though she had nothing to do with it and then she'll start worrying and going butt crazy and she'll end up doing something stupid like going after the demon by herself. It's a whole big thing."

Dean could understand that. If Buffy hadn't of needed him here he'd have probably done something dumb just like that too. But in the time it had taken to sew her up he'd managed to calm himself down and think rationally. He wasn't sure whether that was a good or a bad thing. "Well, what am I supposed to tell her and Sam about where you are?"

She smiled cheekily. "I dunno. Tell her you found me in some bar and I've gone home with some devastatingly handsome man and I'm in the process of being ravished."

Snorting, Dean had to remind himself that it wasn't actually true and there was no sane reason at all for him to be feeling jealous. Oh wait..."Don'tcha think Sam might be a little pissed that you're messing around with some other guy?"

Buffy scrunched up her nose in confusion. "What? Why would Sam care if I...oh!" Dean still thought she and Sam were doing it. She tried really hard, she did, but she found she just couldn't contain her giggles.

"Why are you laughing?" he asked grumpily.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." She rested a hand on her wounded chest. "It's just, I think we need to set you straight on a few things."

"Finally!" Sam exclaimed as he heard his cell phone trilling in his pocket.

"That Dean?" an agitated Faith questioned.

He nodded and brought the phone up to his ear. "Dean? Where the hell have you been, man? Faith and I have called you like a hundred times! Where are you? Did you find Buffy?"

"I knew you weren't man enough to hook up with blondie!" Dean crowed down the other end of the phone, chuckling delightedly and successfully ignoring all of Sam's questions. "I can't believe you kept that going! That's hilarious!"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Dean?"

"What?"

"Where are you?"

"Oh," Dean replied nonchalantly. "I found Buffy and we're tracking the demon. We want to find out its other hiding places so we can kick some quick ass tomorrow when you find out how to kill this thing."

Sam relayed this information to Faith and she blew out a loud, relieved breath through blown up cheeks. "Thank God," she mouthed, directing it towards the sky, before turning back to glare at the phone by Sam's ear. "You better tell B that I'm gonna beat her puny little ass the next time I see her for getting me all stressed out!"

"Duly noted," an amused sounding Dean retorted, having heard Faith's speech.

"Well, me and Faith will head on back to the motel, do some more research then," Sam informed his brother. "We'll try and find out how to kill the Waspaw demon. What time will you guys be back?"

Dean was silent for a moment. "Uh...not sure. Don't wait up for us. We might not be back 'till morning."

"Dean, are you sure about this-"

"Sammy, relax. We won't even go near the thing. We're just tracking it, that's all. We'll only step in if it starts causing trouble."

"Okay," Sam said reluctantly. "Just stay safe. Both of you."

"Will do, little brother," Dean said cheerfully, before hanging up the phone.

Dean exited the bathroom and moved over to where Buffy was tucked up in bed, her eyes focused on the movie she was watching. "What's this?" he asked, kneeling one leg on the edge of the bed.

"'Burn After Reading'," she answered, glancing over at him with a smile. "It's not very good but it has George Clooney in it so I'm determined to watch the whole thing."

"Yeah, George Clooney's a babe."

Buffy giggled delightedly and moved over slightly, patting the space next to her. "Wanna watch with me?"

"Sure." He kicked off his boots and settled himself down on top of the covers, casting her a glance out of the corner of his eye. He'd given her his shirt to wear as her sweater and jeans had been crusted with dried blood. It was much to large for her. The shirttails came down almost to her knees and she'd had to role the sleeves up several times. But dammit, screw the tight jeans and the training outfits and the sexy dresses and the goddess costumes, Buffy wearing his shirt was by far the sexiest freakin' thing he'd ever seen. He coughed loudly and made a conscious effort to focus his attention on the television screen.

"What did you tell Sam and Faith?" Buffy asked curiously some time later.

"Told 'em we were tracking down the demon."

"'Kay. Good idea."

"Bound to happen sometime."

"But what are you gonna tell them when you go back to the room and I don't?"

Not that he planned on telling her or anything, but Dean wasn't actually intending on going back to the other room tonight. He wanted to stay here and watch over her. Sure, she seemed fine now, if a little pained, but what if she tripped and pulled her stitches and started bleeding and couldn't get help because she'd lost too much blood and couldn't move? Okay, unlikely, but he still wasn't leaving. "I'll think of something," he grunted. "I'll stay for the rest of this movie and then I'll head back." He was such a liar.

Buffy smiled sweetly at him before turning back to the TV, snuggling deeper into her pillow with a contented sigh.

Yeah, he wasn't leaving.

Dean awoke the next morning to the smell of Herbal Essence – he'd checked her bottle – and the feel of a soft, warm body wrapped around his own.

He grinned. Now this was heaven, dude.

Buffy's head was resting on his collarbone, tucked perfectly underneath his chin and her arm was lain across his chest, her little fingers gripping onto a handful of his gray t-shirt. The pale blue shirt she'd borrowed off of him had ridden up underneath her belly button some time during the night, and her legs were entwined firmly with his. His own sleepy hands hadn't been idle either. One was around her neck, laced through her mussed hair, and the other was gripping her panty encased bottom. Score for sleepy touchy hands.

She wasn't awake, which was probably a good thing, because although they'd been getting along better than they ever had before last night, she'd probably still beat him to a pulp for copping a feel when she was asleep, even if he hadn't been aware of it himself.

He'd move. Any minute now he'd move.

What the heck, she wasn't awake yet. He'd give it another ten minutes.

It was then that he became aware of just how hard he was, and of how his erection was pressing right into her chest.

Second thoughts, he'd better make that five.

There was something tickling Buffy's belly. Sleepily, she went to swat whatever it was away so that she could go back to sleep, but the tickling continued.

Reluctantly, she groaned and opened her eyes.

Any other time, Buffy might have freaked. She might have gone crazy, lost her rag, done something stupid. But one look at the curiosity on Dean's face and any misgivings she may have had completely vanished.

He was laying down next to her, although he'd scooched down the bed until his head was aligned with her belly. He'd pushed the shirt she was wearing right up until it rested just underneath her breasts, and he was tracing her almost healed wound with a look of wonderment upon his face. Goosebumps rose up on her skin and Buffy had to press her thighs together tightly. Did he know what he was doing to her?

"Hey," he breathed, realizing that she'd awoken.

"Hey."

He looked down at his finger guiltily, though he didn't remove it. "I was just..."

She smiled reassuringly. "I know."

"You're almost healed." He sounded so bewildered.

Buffy smiled and giggled softly, placing her hand over his and rubbing his wrist with her thumb. "Accelerated healing powers. Slayer perk."

"We could probably take your stitches out by lunchtime."

"Good. There's an experience I don't wanna remember." She rubbed her sleepy eyes and yawned.

Fuck, she was adorable.

Dean sat up and stretched, and Buffy's breath caught in her throat. "Sam called a couple of minutes ago."

"Huh?"

He held up his phone. "I said Sam called a couple of minutes ago."

"Oh. What'd he say?"

"Found out how to kill the demon. And about freakin' time."

"Dean!" Buffy swatted him on the arm. "They've probably been researching all night! While we've been here. Asleep." She paused and frowned. "Why are you here, by the way?"

He shrugged and flopped down on his back next to her. "Must have fallen asleep during the movie," he lied. He'd fallen asleep way after the film had finished, checking her heartbeat was regular and that she was breathing properly and just watching her sleep.

"Oh. Me too. So?"

"So?

"Demon. How do we kill it?"

"Oh. Just have to stab it through the heart."

Buffy looked confused and pouted. "But I did that. It just laughed at me. Obnoxiously."

"Heart's not in its chest."

"Oh. Where is it?"

Dean grinned. "Hands."

"What? Ew. That's...weird."

He chuckled. "Gives a whole new meaning to holding your heart in your hands, right."

"Lame," Buffy said with a snort, although Dean could see a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

Dean grinned at her happily for a moment, before rolling out of bed and holding out his hand to her in one smooth flourish. "'Bout time we went and kicked some fugly demon ass, huh?" His voice was low and inviting. Seductive. It caused Buffy's skin to tingle.

She bit her lip and looked up at him with sparkling eyes, slipping her hand into his much larger one. "Definitely."


	15. Chapter 15

Skin - Part One

Disclaimer – Don't own anything you might recognize. They all belong to their respective owners.

AN – Huge apologies for the wait with this chapter. For some reason, I had more difficulties writing it than any of my others, even though the real work was already done for me by the fact that it's taken from an actual Supernatural episode – Skin.

Skin – Part One

"I still say we head out to Georgia," Faith grumbled around a mouthful of syrupy waffle. "Three guys all drop dead in the space of two weeks, all of them from the same office? Something's gotta be wrong with that."

Dean snorted. "The only thing wrong with that is that the office was full of old dudes over seventy. If they didn't want their employees dropping dead on them then they shouldn't hire pensioners." He signaled the diner waitress for more coffee.

"As much as I hate to admit it," Buffy piped up, pulling a pained expression. "Dean's right."

"Hell yeah."

Buffy ignored him and continued. "These guys were old, and clearly just overworked. It's sad and all, but I doubt it's case worthy."

"Whatever." Faith shrugged and glanced over at Sam, who'd stayed quiet throughout the entire conversation. "Hey, Jolly Green Giant. What's that your messing with?"

Sam didn't even look up as he answered. "Just checking my emails."

She looked at the tiny device in his hands and raised a brow "Jeez, technology just gets smaller and smaller, don't it?"

"I know right?" Buffy agreed. "Willow and Andrew are always messing with these weird gadgety things, and I'm like, 'whatever happened to a good old fashioned letter?'"

"You two are crazy," Dean said, shaking his head. "And from who?" he asked Sam curiously. He wondered if it was another hunter, which would be weird because most hunters were about as technologically minded as...Buffy.

"Old friends from Stanford," he replied, finally looking up at the other three. By the look on Dean's face, he realized he needed to explain. "I like knowing what's going on in their lives. Reminds me of being normal."

Dean rolled his eyes and shook his head. When the hell was Sam going to realize that they weren't normal? That they weren't ever going to be normal?

"That's nice, Sam," Buffy observed. "I think it's good to keep in contact with your friends."

Dean frowned. "Seriously? You're kidding me, right?"

"No. Why?"

"It's just...weird."

"Why's it weird?" Sam questioned, puzzled by Dean's reaction.

Mindful of the way the other three occupants of the table were staring at him, Dean pulled an innocent expression and took a bite of his eggs. "I mean," he started once he'd swallowed. "what do you say to them when you mail them back? You do mail them back, right? Of course you do, you're completely anal retentive." He ignored Sam's offended splutters. "What do you tell them you're doing now? They've gotta wonder why you suddenly just disappeared, you know?"

Sam suddenly became very interested in his so far untouched breakfast. "I dunno." He shrugged. "I guess I just tell them I'm on a road trip with my brother. They understand that I needed time away after Jess."

"Ah." Dean sat back in the plastic bench with an understanding smirk. "Right. So you just lie to them then?"

Buffy shook her head. Why did Dean have to purposely wind people up all the time? Like it was ever going to end well. Numbskull.

"No!" Sam protested. "Not lying. Just...not telling them...certain things."

"Sammy's a bit fat liar," Dean sung gleefully.

"Ignore him, Sam," Buffy said, shooting a scowl over in Dean's direction.. "You're right not to tell them the truth. Most people would freak."

"Exactly." Dean crossed his arms, looking very pleased with himself.

"So I have to lie a little," Sam reasoned. "Buffy's right. People would think I'm crazy if I told them the truth. But what do you expect me to do? Ignore them? Cut them out of my life?"

"Sure."

"Seriously? You think it's that easy?"

"Why don't you tell people the truth, Sam?"

"Because they'd-"

"Freak. Yeah, yeah. I think we've established that. Why else."

"Well...I don't wanna put them in danger..."

"And there you go." He glanced at Sam apologetically, all amusement gone from his expression. "I know it sucks, but it's just what we have to do. You can't risk getting close to people, not with what we do. Not at all."

"What the hell are we then?" Faith interjected.

Dean waved a dismissive hand towards her. "You guys don't count. You already know about all this crap. And you can take care of yourselves. I'm talking about civilians."

Sam shook his head and went back to his emails. "Whatever, man. You do it your way, I'll do it mine."

Dean sighed. Sam would learn eventually. And it would probably be a hard lesson – one he'd rather his little brother not have to go through. But it was most likely unavoidable. Everyone in this gig knew it. It was just one of the most basic rules of hunting. And soon Sam would know it too. Dean just hoped it wouldn't be toosoon.

Leaning over the table, he snagged the last piece of toast off of Buffy's plate, shoving it into his mouth before she could protest.

He looked up in surprise when no such protest was made, only to find her watching him with a puzzled frown.

"What?" he asked, not even bothering to swallow first.

She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment. "Do you really believe that?" she questioned eventually.

"Believe what?"

"That you shouldn't ever get close to people?"

"Yeah." He nodded determinedly. "It ends up bad. Every time."

"I think you're wrong," she stated quietly.

Of course she did, Dean thought. She was into the whole emotional thing. "And why's that?"

She shrugged and pushed her omelet around her plate with a fork. "I just think that...that everybody needs someone. Someone to keep them grounded, to remind them that they're not just a slayer – or a hunter – but a person, too. I think that you need to have people around you that you love to remember why you fight for the world in the first place."

"People get in the way," he argued.

Buffy shook her head. "My friends have saved my life more times than I can count. Hell, they've saved the world more times than I can count."

Dean pulled a face. "Your friends all have superpowers or whatever. They don't count."

"Back in the old days it was just me and Giles and Willow and Xander."

"Giles is a watcher and Willow's a witch. Once again, they don't count. And Xander is...well, he's just an idiot."

"First of all, Xander's not an idiot. Well, not really. And Willow wasn't always a witch."

Dean was quickly running out of arguments. "I bet they got into a heap of trouble though too, right? And you had to save them?"

"I agree," Faith announced suddenly.

Dean smiled a 'haha' smile at Buffy. "Thank you, Faith," he said smugly.

"I meant with Buffy, ya knucklehead."

Buffy and Dean looked at Faith in surprise, their mouths slightly open. "What?"

"Hey, don't look so shocked." She rolled her shoulders in embarrassment. She should have just kept her trap shut. "I just mean that I used to only look out for number one. Didn't give a damn about no one or nothing, 'cept for getting in a good slay and having a bang-up time. And look where that got me – in a prison cell with a foot obsessed crybaby named Celeste."

Sam lifted up his head in shock.

"Prison?" both he and Dean croaked, at the same time Buffy uttered "Foot obsessed crybaby?" with an amused snicker.

"Story for another time," Faith said dismissively to Sam and Dean before continuing. "Look, all I'm trying to say is that for the past couple of years I've come to rely on a few people. Buffy for one – she kinda wriggles her way in without you even realizing it."

Dean could only ponder about how true that was.

"Hey!" Buffy gasped, offended to be described in such a way. "Or possibly thank you."

"And nerd boy too," Faith went on as if Buffy hadn't even spoken. "He's alright once you get past the annoying bits. And Buffy's little sis', even if she is in England." And okay so maybe she still didn't exactly like the rest of the Scoobies, but whatever. She could deal.

"So what are you saying?" Dean asked, genuinely interested.

"I'm saying that Buffy and Sam are right. Life's better when you let people in. Is for me, anyway." And that was all the soppy crap they were getting from her.

Luckily, before either Dean or Buffy had a chance to reply, they were beaten to the chase by Sam. "Oh my God," he whispered, his head bent again as he continued to read his mail.

Dean threw his brother a concerned glance. "What?"

Sam indicted indicated towards what he'd been reading. "An email I got from this girl I knew, Rebecca Warren. I was pretty good friends with her and her brother Zach. She says Zach's been charged with murder...

ST. LOUIS, MO

"I'm bored," Faith complained, rolling onto her belly on the motel bed and kicking up her feet. "Why couldn't we go with Sam and Dean again?"

"Because they were going to see Sam's friend, Rebecca," Buffy explained patiently as she flicked through a magazine. "It'd look kind of weird if all four of us turned up."

"Oh yeah. Well I'm still bored."

"But still very pretty."

Faith scoffed. "Pretty my ass. Daisies are pretty. I'm hot."

"Uh huh." Buffy wasn't really listening.

Faith slid off the bed and picked up the crossbow she had left lying on the floor earlier. She lifted it up and aimed, pretending to shoot at invisible bad guys.

"Oops!"

Buffy lifted her eyes momentarily as she heard something crash. "You're paying for that," she said, in regards to the smashed up motel clock that now lay in pieces on the floor. A crossbow bolt was sticking out of the rubble. Without another word she went back to her magazine.

Moments later, Buffy's phone began to chirp, and Faith let out a dramatic, "Thank God!"

"Hello?" Buffy said into the phone, rolling her eyes at Faith's behavior.

"Hey." It was Dean. "Looks like we got ourselves a case."

"Cool beans. What's the sitch?"

"Sam's friend Zach appears to have been in two places at once. There's video footage of him entering his house at ten – about half an hour before his girlfriend was killed – but his sister swears blind that he was with her 'till at least midnight. We checked out the footage and it looks real enough, but when the Zach lookalike glanced into the camera his eyes flared."

"Uh huh," Buffy replied, very slowly.

"So why don't you and Faith meet us at the library and we'll start researching, okay? We need to find out anything we can about things that can maybe take other forms or imitate people. His eyes flashed silver so we can narrow it down."

Buffy paused for a long moment, waiting to see if he was messing with her. He wasn't. Eventually, she sighed and shook her head, even though she knew he couldn't see her. "You're kind of an idiot."

"What? Why?"

"Not just you," she said consolingly. "Sam's an idiot too."

"Well, that's true. Wait, why am I an idiot again?"

"So, you can't think what demon could possibly taking the shape of somebody else? Not at all?"

"Like I said, once we've resear-"

"Dean, what was the case that we worked on just a couple of weeks ago? The case that brought you to Cleveland? The case in which we met?"

"What's that freaky ass warlock got to do with anything?" He was sounding very confused. She waited...waited...and then, "Oh!"

"There we go."

"Shapeshifter!"

"Clever boy."

The next morning, Buffy was rudely awakened by the sound of someone shouting 'wakey wakey' in her ear – loudly. She lifted her head up from where it had been resting on Faith's shoulder in the backseat of the Impala. "Jerk," she mumbled, rubbing her eyes.

Dean smirked and moved back to his seat in the front.

"Where's Sam at?" Faith asked, yawning widely.

"Sherlock's outside looking for trails," he replied.

Faith grunted and climbed out of the car to go and help him. Buffy considered following for a moment, but quickly decided that staying where she was in the warm, comfortable car was the much more appealing idea.

As she slumped back down, Dean handed his coffee through the back to her. "Thanks," she said with a grateful sigh, taking a long sip.

"Sorry for waking you up," Dean said with a barely concealed chuckle.

"No worries, would have had to get up soon anyway." She checked her watch. "At five thirty in the morning! Jeez! I don't even remember leaving the motel room. Remind me to kick Sam's butt next time I have the energy."

"Right there with ya, angel face."

"It's your fault I'm so tired anyway," she grumbled.

He snorted. "How'd you figure?"

"You're the one that made me stay up 'till stupid o'clock so that we could spar."

"I thought you might welcome the chance to brush up on your technique. You've been getting rusty."

"You're such an ass." But her tone was playful and her eyes were sparkling.

"You love my ass. In fact..." He maneuvered himself up so that said ass was in Buffy's line of vision. "you can touch it it you want."

Buffy burst into laughter at his blatant cockiness, and before he had a chance to sit back down, she leaned forward and slapped his butt, hard.

He jerked in surprise and hit his head on the roof of the car, before turning around to cast her a mock glare. "Now that was just mean."

"And yet I feel no remorse."

"You're remorseless. You're clearly the devil."

Buffy giggled and leaned back to look out of the car window. "Why are we parked around the back of the house?"

"The video tape showed the real Zach getting arrested, but didn't show the shifter leave. We figure he must have escaped through the back."

"Makes sense."

"Sam's hoping to find some kind of a trail that might lead us to wherever it's hiding out."

"A trail of what?"

He shrugged. "Dunno. Smarties?"

Moments later, Sam and Faith appeared at Dean's open window.

"Find anything?" Dean asked.

"Blood," Sam replied. "But it doesn't seem to lead anywhere."

"Well that's helpful."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Maybe if you got off your-"

"Shut your cake holes a minute, would ya!" Faith demanded suddenly, holding up a silencing hand.

Immediately quietening down, they too hard the sound of an ambulance siren, not so far away.

"Maybe it's connected to the job?" Buffy wondered out loud.

"Doesn't hurt to find out," Dean claimed.

Faith nodded slowly. "You guys go ahead," she suggested. "Me and B will check out the nearby area. Maybe we'll find something that doesn't leave us with a dead end."

"What was it?" Buffy questioned, when she and Faith met up with Sam and Dean not long after. "Anything to do with the shapeshifter?"

"Looks like," Dean answered. "Same situation. Guy ties up and beats his wife, claims he wasn't even there at the time."

"He have any proof?" Faith queried.

Sam shook his head. "No, but this is way too similar to Zach's case for it to be a coincidence. I think we're definitely looking at a shifter. What about you? Did you guys find anything new?"

"Another trail, same as we found earlier." Faith indicated towards the evidence.

He frowned. "This one just stops too? How the hell is this guy getting around?"

Buffy looked down at the ground and pouted, kicking at the grate she was standing on in distaste. "I did notdress appropriately for this."

"I know bad guys are like, all grr and evil and stuff, but why do they find it more acceptable to hang out in the sewers than good guys do?" Buffy mused out loud as the four of them picked their way through the underground tunnels. "I mean, just because they're evil doesn't mean they have to stop thinking about hygiene, you know? Because hygiene is very important. Especially if you're evil because really, evil people don't have many good qualities to begin with."

"Is it weird that your strange, crazy person logic actually makes sense to me?" Dean asked.

Buffy said nothing, but smiled up at him sweetly. But all in the same second she had stopped walking and her smile had vanished and had been replaced by a look of complete horror. "Oh God!" Slowly, she looked down at the ground.

The other three paused to glance at her.

"What is it?" a worried Faith demanded.

They all looked down to where a miserable Buffy was pointing. One new, expensive, suede boot clad foot was parked right in the middle of what looked suspiciously like discarded skin.

"That's sick," Faith commented.

Sam, resisting the urge to gag, bent down to take a closer look, narrowing his eyes. "Is that an ear?"

Buffy almost fainted.

"Maybe the blood and guts will wash out," Faith tried to console Buffy, as the brothers rooted around through the trunk of the car.

Buffy hummed sadly. "Honestly, I'd rather burn them."

"Can't blame you."

"What are Sam and Dean looking for? They've had their heads in the trunk for ages."

"They're packing up on silver bullets and all that crap. You know Dean actually wanted to give us a gun?"

"Ew. What does he think we are? Heathens?"

"That's what I said." She pulled out a deadly looking silver dagger and twirled it in her fingers expertly. "You got yours?"

Buffy nodded and pulled out a matching silver dagger. "God bless Andrew and his crazed love of having us use matching weapons."

Faith snorted. "Freakin' dork." She ran her finger along the blade adoringly. "I do love me a good dagger, though."

"Gotta tell you, I am so glad we never saw the shapeshifter change back in Cleveland. I don't think I could have handled watching myself rip chunks off of my own skin."

"That's gross."

"And weird."

"I can't believe that's how he does it, man. Imagine the pain. Why bother?"

"'Cause he's a sick freak who needs the holy crap kicking out of him?"

"Sounds about right."

They both turned at the same time as they heard the sound of Sam's cellphone ringing, and watched in trepidation as he spluttered into it.

"Guess Sam's little friend ain't too happy," Faith murmured, as they heard the gist of the conversation.

"Guess not. Just hope she doesn't get in our way. God! I can't believe we have to go back own into the sewers."

"Yeah. When you spend more time below ground than above it, you know there's definitely something wrong in your life. You wanna go change first?"

"That'd be nice."

"Dean said we're not going back 'till dark, so we've got plenty of time. We've even got time to find a nice spot to burn your boots in if you want?"

"Sounds romantic."

"We could even take marshmallows, make a night of it. Maybe with the shapeshifter guts on your boots the smoke will turn a funny color. Purple or something."

"Here's to hoping." She looked down at her ruined boots another time. "Stupid bad guy is so gonna pay for these."

"We could filch his wallet once we-"

"Not literally. I mean pay in the stabbing and the pain kind of way."

Faith shrugged. "Whatever makes you happy, pussy cat."

Later on that night, the foursome did indeed find themselves traipsing through the underground tunnels for the second time that day. After twenty minutes, the tunnel split off into two directions. Silently, Dean pointed for Buffy and Faith to go one way, and he lead Sam down the other.

The girls hadn't been walking more than a minute and a half when they heard the sounds of conflict and the ring of gunshots.

Sharing a worried glance, they immediately turned back the way they had come and sprinted towards the sound of all the commotion, arriving just in time to find a pissed off Sam and Dean scrambling out of a manhole.

"What happened?" Faith wanted to know, panting as she followed them up.

"Freakin' shapeshifter," Dean answered as he cradled his obviously injured arm.

"Which way did he go," Sam questioned urgently, his head darting from side to side as his eyes strained to make out the shapeshifter.

"Don't know," Dean replied. "Didn't see. Damn, he was quick."

"Everyone split up," Buffy ordered, slayer authoritativeness kicking into gear. "Keep your cellphones on and meet back up at the car in an hour." And with that she was gone, sprinting away from them at a speed that almost made her seem blurry.

Faith shrugged. "You heard the girl." She took off in the opposite direction.

Sam and Dean glanced at each other quickly before tucking their guns away inside their jackets and nodding to each other before splitting up.

In Dean's form, the shapeshifter looked down at Sam's unconscious body and shook his head in disappointment. That had been all too easy. A quick knock on the head with a tire iron and Winchester was out for the count. He would have liked to have done it with a bit more class but little Sammy had figured out that he wasn't big bro' much sooner than he'd anticipated. Never mind. Though it was still disappointing. The elder brother had put up much more of a fight. Glancing around to make sure there were no witnesses, the shapeshifter hoisted Sam up and threw him, unceremoniously, into the back of the car. Just as he was about to slam the door shut, he heard the unmistakable sound of a cellphone chirping. It wasn't Dean's – he'd left that down in the sewers when he'd chucked the body down there – so it must be Sam's.

"Hello?" he said into the phone after he'd liberated it from Sam's jacket pocket.

"Hey. I'm on my way back. You guys find anything?"

The shapeshifter closed his eyes as a string on Dean's memories filtered into his mind.

Faith. She and Dean were screwing. Or had been. Or were they still? Dean didn't know.

Oh...she was fun!

"Hello? Am I talking to myself?" She was still there.

"Sorry. Uh, where did you say you were?"

"I said I'm on my way back to the car. I didn't find the bastard. Did you have any luck? Where's Sam? Why're you answering his phone?"

"He went to take a leak."

"Oh. Nice. Why aren't you answering your phone? I called it like seven times already."

Jesus. Didn't this girl ever stop with the questions? "It's on silent. Uh, don't come back here."

"What? Why not?"

"Because we didn't find him either. So we're gonna keep looking. You should too." He winced as another onslaught on memories came on. "Call Buffy. Tell her to do the same."

"Yes sir." Her tone was haughty and sarcastic and she clearly didn't like being told what to do. He didn't really give a crap.

"Later Faith." He didn't even wait for her to reply before he flipped the phone shut.

Sam's heart was thudding painfully in his chest. How in the hell had he allowed himself to be captured? He'd known it wasn't Dean. He'd known. He should have taken the damn shot when he had the chance! But the shapeshifter had planted just that tiniest little bit of doubt inside him and he'd found himself unable to pull the trigger.

Which was clearly the dumbest thing he'd done all night. Now he was tied up down in the damp, disgusting sewers. He was weaponless and his head was pounding from where the shapeshifter had bashed it with a tire iron.

And what about Buffy and Faith? Where were they? Were they okay, or had the shifter gotten them too?

"Where is my brother?" Sam demanded evenly, trying not to listen to the words coming from the shifter's mouth. Just because it looked like Dean, didn't mean it was.

The shapeshifter continued to talk, and his words were becoming very hard to ignore. Was this really how Dean felt? Abandoned by him, by dad? Jealous that he'd had opportunities that Dean hadn't?

It grabbed a hold of a sheet of tarpaulin and sauntered slowly over towards Sam. "But still, it's not all bad. There are certain...perks." He smirked evilly. "I meet all the best kinds of people. Like freakin' slayers, man! Wouldn't get the...benefits of a slayer if he'd– I'd have been a regular Joe. Know what I'm saying?" He stepped closer and sighed happily. "Yeah, Dean likes slayers. One slayer in particular, I should say."

"Stay away from Faith-"

"Faith?" The shifter chuckled loudly. "Dean doesn't care about Faith, not really. I'm talking about Buffy. Little. Buffy. Summers. Prettiest girl he's ever seen."

"What are you talking about?"

"Jeez, considering you guys are brothers and all you sure don't like to share. Maybe it's because you screwed him over and left him for your own selfish ambitions." He held up the hand that wasn't holding the sheet and pulled a mock innocent expression when Sam cursed at him. "Hey, just throwing it out there. No need to get nasty." His face became thoughtful. "But I'm surprised you don't know about Dean's thoughts on Buffy. Dean worries that you do. But the rest of the time he's just thinking about her. To the point of obsession actually. It's kind of pathetic, really it is. Always thinking up ways to get her to smile, or to laugh, or to get angry. He likes it when she gets angry. All fiery and flustered and just hot, man! And he's dying to find out what she's like in the sack. He thinks she'd be dynamite." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Let's find out, shall we?"

"You'd better stay away from Buffy," Sam warned. "Last time she came up against one of you things she beat it down. You won't stand a chance."

But his words didn't even seem to faze the shifter. "Well now, I bet they didn't know the fun tricks I do."

"What tricks? You stay the hell away from her! You hear me? Stay the hell away from her!" Sam yelled desperately, but the shapeshifter wasn't listening and it certainly didn't care, and within seconds Sam's world went dark as the tarpaulin sheet was thrown over his head.

"So you haven't noticed anyone suspicious about in the past couple of hours?" Buffy asked the grocery store guy once more.

He shook his head. "Sorry."

She sighed and thanked him before exiting the store.

This officially sucked.

She must have walked through every damn street in the city and she hadn't found anything. Not even a tiny bit of a clue. And now Dean and Sam weren't answering their cellphones which was causing a horrible squiggly feeling of worry in her stomach. She decided to call Faith to see if she wanted to meet up so that they could look for the boys together. She knew that Faith had spoken to Dean a while ago but she hadn't heard anything since.

But before she could even bring up Faith's number, her phone was ringing and Dean's name was flashing on the screen. "Thank God!" she exclaimed exasperatedly once she'd answered. "Do you know how worried I've been? I've been calling you and Sam constantly for the past gazillion hours!"

"Hey hey hey, princess! Relax. Sam and I went back down into the sewers. We must have lost connection. We're fine though. Dirty, but fine."

"You didn't find the bad guy?"

"No, unfortunately. No sightings."

"Damn, me neither."

"We should probably grab a bite to eat and then head back out again. Do you wanna meet me at the motel?"

"Sounds good. I'm starved. I left my purse back in the room so I couldn't grab anything."

"Well, Sam's gone to meet Faith. He said something about picking up some Chinese food and meeting us at the motel. Sound good?"

"Mm, heaven. I'm only about twenty minutes away so I won't be long."

"I'm closer, but I have to pick something up first. I'll be there in thirty."

Sam nudged off the sheet with his head and struggled as hard as he could against the tight ropes that bound him down.

"Sammy? That you?" he heard a hoarse voice call from somewhere behind him.

He sighed in relief, grinning happily at the sound of his brother's voice. "Yeah, it's me. You okay?"

Dean groaned as he nudged his own sheet off of himself and tried to pull away from his bindings. "I've been better. You sure you're you? Not some freaky thing that just looks like you? 'Cause I'd hate to have to kill you."

"Yeah, I'm definitely me. If I wasn't then these ropes wouldn't be digging into my wrists so much." He tried to turn around in his limited space to look at his brother. "Dean, I think the shifter's gone after Buffy, and he's looking like you now."

Dean ceased his struggling for a moment. "What?" His voice was low and deadly.

"When he left here he was all dressed up in your skin and he said he was going to see Buffy." He neglected to mention the other things the shifter had said.

Dean started struggling against his ropes furiously. "Stupid sniveling son of a bitch!" he yelled ferociously. "When I find that fugly joke of a freak-show I swear to God I'll rip him apart, piece by piece!"

Sam widened his eyes in surprise at his brother's savage reaction. Had the shapeshifter been telling the truth about Dean's feelings for Buffy? Sure, Sam had kinda suspected that maybe his brother had a crush on her, but he'd thought it was a passing thing. Dean didn't do serious. Ever.

And if those things were true, were all the other things he had been saying true too? About him and their dad? "Dean, calm down. Buffy's the slayer. She'll be fine." But he too, was worried. What if Buffy didn't figure out that it wasn't Dean in time? What if he tricked her into thinking she was safe and then...

He redoubled his efforts to escape.

Buffy knew the second that that Dean walked into the motel room that it wasn't really him. His walk was cockier and his smile was sinister instead of cheeky and everything about him was just wrong, even if it all seemed perfectly right. It wasn't him and she knew it. If they'd have been on any other case she'd have just assumed that he was in a weird mood, but it wasn't any other case. It was this one. A shapeshifter. And now the thing that she'd spent the whole night hunting for was here in the motel room, looking like Dean.

"Hi," he said, closing the door behind him and walking further into the room.

From her position on the bed, Buffy eyed the jacket she had left by the door warily. She had left both her phone and her silver dagger in there. The rest of her weapons were in the car. How strong was he? Stronger than the shapeshifter she'd faced in Cleveland? And what weapons did he have concealed on him? Could she get across the room quick enough? "Hi," she replied eventually. How long would he go on pretending he was the real deal for? Long enough for her to come up with some sort of plan?

"What a night!" he complained, stretching his arms above his head and yawning.

Buffy's tone was even when she retorted. "It's still early yet."

"Yes it is." He came and sat down next to her on the bed. Close. Too close.

The second she felt one cold finger trail lightly up her arm, Buffy jumped off the bed in a jittery rush. "I wonder what could be taking Faith and Sam so long." As she spoke, she knew her voice was far too high pitched and she wondered if he could tell. "I think I'll call them and see what's up." She hurried over to her jacket, desperate for the knife she knew was in there. She span around quickly when she heard him follow her and raised an arm to strike. But she was distracted by the way he looked, and he was quicker than she had anticipated, and in one fluid movement he had grabbed a hold of her wrist with one hand, and ripped the motel lamp from its socket with the other. Before Buffy could even react, the lamp came crashing down onto her head.

Buffy dropped to her hands and knees, trying to shake away the pain and the dizziness. She looked up, just in time to see Dean's heavy boot swinging towards her face.

The shapeshifter tutted as Buffy's eyes rolled backwards before she dropped to the floor, unconscious. "It didn't have to be like this," he told her still body, before shrugging. "Never mind."

With a smug smirk, he reached into his pocket to pull out a needle and the muscle relaxants he had picked up from a decidedly shady looking character before coming back to the motel. He dropped to his knees next to her and primed the needle, before yanking up her arm. "Bet you wish you'd never told me that eighteenth birthday story now, huh?" he said, before pricking the needle into her skin.

"Thanks," Sam exclaimed gratefully as Dean released him from his restraints. He twisted his sore wrists around painfully and winced. "Did he leave our stuff down here?"

"No, I don't think so. Why?"

"I was hoping he'd left our cellphones. We could have called Buffy and warned her. And we're gonna need Faith's backup."

Dean's face became clouded as he thought about Buffy.

She'd be okay, he told himself. She was the slayer, she could handle herself.

Even so...

"Come on, let's get out of this hell hole. We need to find Buffy."

The first thing that Buffy felt as she drowsily drifted back into consciousness was the fire. It felt as though every inch of her body was covered in it. She dragged her eyes open in alarm. There was no fire. It just felt that way because she was in so much pain.

The second thing she felt was the way the tight ropes tying her down to a stiff chair were chafing into her skin, and how the gag in her mouth was making it very difficult for her to breathe.

In a state of alarm, she struggled helplessly against her ties, but it was to no avail. She whimpered loudly.

"You're probably wondering why you can't just break away from those little ropes," a silky voice spoke up from behind her. "Strong slayer like you. should be able to get through them easy, right?"

Dean...no! It wasn't him. It was the shapeshifter! It wasn't Dean! Because she remembered. He had hurt her, and Dean would never do that. Not on purpose. She cried out as she felt him run a hand over her blood soaked hair as he circled around her chair to face her. She felt so weak, like she could barely move. And she felt as if she'd gone a a hundred rounds with a hundred demons. What had he done to her?

"Muscle relaxants," he confessed, answering her unspoken question as he held up the empty syringe up for her to see. "Genius. I like those watchers of yous. Smart guys."

Buffy gave an animal like grunt and tried to strain forwards, wanting more than anything to rip that slimy expression off of his face. But she could barely even get the ropes to budge.

The shapeshifter straightened and backhanded her. Buffy tried to stop the muffled scream that erupted around her gag, she really did.

Bastard!

How had she let this happen?

He turned his back on her and walked over to where she had left her jacket. He rooted through the pockets and pulled out both her phone and her silver knife. "You know," he said casually, as he dropped the phone on the floor and stomped on it with one large boot. "I kinda like you. Not as much as Dean does, but never mind. Which is why, baby doll, this is gonna hurt me." He held up the silver knife and smiled wickedly. "Not as much as it's gonna hurt you though."

Terrified tears dripped out of Buffy's rapidly widening eyes, and she shrieked in horror as he advanced towards her, the deadly looking dagger held tightly in his hand.


	16. Chapter 16

Skin - Part Two

Skin – Part Two

Billy wasn't a brave man.

Hell, we was barely even a man. At only eighteen he was still just a boy, though when his momma called him that he would sit in his room and lock the door and sulk for at least an hour.

But the point was, he wasn't brave. Never had been.

And another thing – he frikkin' hated this damn motel! He didn't know why his pop had to just randomly decide to up and move the whole family away from their home in the country just so he could live out his stupid vision of owning an ugly, dingy motel in a crappy city full of douchebag's and butthead's. And even worse, Billy was forced to work behind the counter! He actually had to interact with all the dirty, messed up folks that only came here in the first place because they couldn't afford anywhere nicer. Jerks.

Which is how Billy – not so brave and forced to work alone behind his pop's motel counter for the night – found himself holding his big brother Tommy's shotgun and standing outside room number 16, his clammy hands shaking as he debated whether or not he should break in.

The muffled screaming coming from inside the room had started up a while ago, and at first he hadn't thought anything of it. All sorts of dodgy people came through the motel. Drug dealers, whores, you name it. And all sorts of dicey business took place.

But the screams were still going on, and they were sounding more and more messed up by the minute. Billy was pretty sure there was something going on in there that was even more wrong than your run of the mill bad ass crime.

He could break down the door, guns blazing, and be a hero. He had the gun, that meant he had the power, right? He could take down anything as long as he had the gun...

Billy gulped, and scurried back to the desk, yanking up the phone to dial 911.

Buffy couldn't remember the last time she had been in so much pain. She didn't want to remember. She wanted to close her eyes and fall in to the unconsciousness that she knew was so close. But every time her eyelids began to drop, the shapeshifter would slap her extra hard, or dig the knife in just that little bit deeper. He wanted her to see him, to see Dean. He wanted her to see Dean doing these things to her. Torturing her.

Her only sense of relief was knowing that as long as he was here with her, he wasn't out there hurting Faith or Sam or the real Dean. And she couldn't think about the fact that he might already have gotten to them. She wouldn't think of it.

She was covered in splatters of her own blood. She could feel it trickling down her face, her arms, her legs, her chest. It covered her. It covered the bruises he had given her.

And she was helpless. No slayer strength to save her. She had thought being powerless had been bad all those years ago back in Sunnydale, but it had been nothing, not really. The fear she had felt then was nothing compared to what she felt now.

She was helpless. Just like all the other shapeshifter's victims.

Time seemed endless. Why was no one coming to help her? She was sure as hell making enough noise. She blamed it on the fact that they had chosen to stay in the first motel they had come across, which had clearly been in the nastiest part of the city. No one around here cared about other people's business, just as long as no one got in theirs.

She was alone.

It was almost a relief when she saw that look in his eyes. The look that told her he was done playing, that he was finally ready to finish this.

He span the dagger around in his hand skillfully. He had enjoyed using it, knowing that she had planned on using it on him. It had clearly given him some kind of sick satisfaction.

"You know, it really is a shame," he mused as he advanced on her once more. "I think out of all the girls, you've been my favorite. You make the prettiest sounds." He grabbed a hold of her chin and yanked her face up so that she was looking at him. "But I got things I gotta do."

He brought the knife up to her throat, and then paused, as he heard something move outside the motel door.

"Shi-" he cursed, as the motel door came bursting open, and the barrels of at least five guns were pointed at his face.

Dean waited impatiently outside the convenience store as Sam went inside to ask if he could use their bathroom. Sam had realized that he still had dried blood plastered to the side of his face from where the shifter had hit him with the tire iron, and since they'd had to walk through the city to get back to the motel because the shifter had taken the car, people passing by them had been staring at him in horror. Sam had insisted on finding somewhere to wash it off before they were stopped and questioned by the police. Dean had argued but only agreed in the end after Sam had pointed out that if they were stopped by the police, then it would take them even longer to get back to the motel and check up on Buffy.

Dean jolted in surprise when Sam suddenly came barreling out of the store, grabbing onto his arm and yanking him away. He ignored Dean's protests and only stopped dragging once they'd turned into a darkened alleyway, hidden from the view of the rest of the street.

"What the hell?" Dean growled, pulling his arm away from his brother hotly. "And ow!"

"Dean, there was a TV in the store-"

"Oh God, not a TV!"

"-and it was set to a news station," Sam continued in a low and urgent voice, ignoring his brother's sarcasm. "There was a news report about a SWAT team being called to a motel in the northern part of the city-"

Dean's eyes widened in horror as realization dawned. "Our motel was in the northern part of the city."

Sam's insides were churning as he continued. "A women from out of town was found bound and gagged to a chair and when the SWAT team found her, her attacker was still in the room. All the men were armed and he still managed to take them out before escaping. Dean, they've got a pretty good picture of you and they're gonna be showing it all over the city."

"What about the woman? Was it Buffy? Sammy, tell me it wasn't Buffy." Dean's heart was pounding unbearably in his chest.

Sam ran his hands through his hair and didn't reply.

Cursing loudly, Dean swung around and kicked out violently at a dumpster. He span back around to face Sam. "Where's Buffy now? Is she-"

"She's at the hospital," Sam replied quickly. "She's not dead. From the sounds of it, she's pretty banged up and she lost a lot of blood but she's gonna be okay."

Dean could barely even think over the furious red mist that was swirling around inside his mind. Fuck, did Buffy think that it was him? She knew the shifter was out there, so she must have put two and two together, right? But God, what if she hadn't and she was in the hospital right now, thinking that he was the one who had done whatever messed up things that sick bastard had done to her? And why did it have to go after Buffy in the first place? Out of all the people in the freakin' city, why her?

With a violent roar, he swung around and punched the wall, not even acknowledging the pain as the skin was ripped from his knuckles.

"Dean...Dean! You need to calm down," Sam yelled, frightened that his brother was going to do himself some serious damage.

"I am calm," Dean huffed, turning around and leaning back against the wall with a sigh. He tipped his head back and looked up at the sky. "I'm calmly considering the best way to rip his intestines out of his chest so that I can strangle him with them."

"I know this sucks, man, but seriously, Buffy's fine. I'm mad as hell that he hurt her too but she's not dead and that's all that matters. Why are you being so crazy about this?"

Dean opened and closed him mouth several times. "Because it's...Buffy," was his eventual, defeated reply.

Sam blinked, not at all sure on how he was supposed to answer that.

Dean pulled away from the wall. "We need to go to the hospital. We need to see her."

"We can't. You need to stay out of sight. The second you go in the hospital they'll arrest you, especially if you go anywhere near Buffy's room."

Dean wanted to argue some more, but he knew Sam was right. "Fine then. We need to go find me and kick the holy crap out of my admittedly very attractive ass."

"With what? Dean, the shapeshifter took all our things. Our weapons, silver bullets, everything. We can't go back to the motel 'cause it's a crime scene and we can't call Faith because we don't have our cellphones. Are you sure you don't remember her number?"

"No, I don't remember her goddamned number. It was keyed into my cell so I never bothered." He paused for a moment to take in a deep, calming breath. "So what are you saying, Sam? That we sit back and do nothing? This moronic good for nothing monster is skulking around out there wearing my face and hurting people that I care about! I seriously need to kill this guy!"

Sam sighed and nodded his head. "Okay. I know. But we still need our weapons back."

"We left them all in the car."

"Which I'm guessing he drove over to the motel. Think it's still there?"

"It freakin' better be."

Faith was seriously mad.

It had been hours since she'd last spoken to anyone. Hours since anyone had bothered to call her and since anyone had even bothered to pick up their phone to check if she was okay.

She could have just gone back to the motel and checked up on them there, but why the hell should she? Why should she have to go and make the effort when they clearly didn't give enough of a damn to do the same.

So she'd decided to head up into a nearby cemetery and had been having a blast taking out her anger on a couple of idiot vamps who had thought they were in for an easy snack when they'd come across her.

Finally getting bored with beating on them, she whipped out her stake and grinned in anticipation.

Just as she was driving the stake through the heart of the last vampire, she felt a presence behind her. She span around, stake in hand, only to let her hand drop down when she realized who it was. She blinked in surprise. "Dean?"

Dean looked somewhat surprised to see her too. His eyes widened and he swallowed hard. He was panting heavily and he looked behind him cautiously before looking back at Faith. "Faith, I've been looking for you."

She snorted and crossed her arms. "Whatever. Sure you have. Where've you all been at anyway? I've been wandering around for hours like a tool."

"Where do you think we've been? Hunting down the bad guy, that's where." His voice was low and purposely seductive, and when he took a step closer to her he smirked suggestively as he ran his eyes up and down her body. "But I'm bored now. I can think of much more interesting ways to get through the night."

Faith recognized that look alright. "What? Now you want some?"

"You complaining?"

If Faith hadn't been kinda mad that she'd been left alone all night, and kind of antsy and still unsatisfied from the fight she'd just had against the vampires, she may have questioned why Dean was suddenly interested in sex again even though they hadn't been at it since Cleveland. But she was, so she didn't. Instead, she allowed him to push her up against the wall of the mausoleum and kiss her hard and thoroughly.

As his mouth moved down, she closed her eyes and tilted her head back to allow his lips better access to her neck, and she missed the way that his eyes flashed silver as the moonlight hit them.

When he was finished, Dean zipped up his pants and turned on his heel and began to walk away from her.

Faith, yanking up her own pants, started after him in surprise. "Where the hell are you going?"

He turned back. "Well that was fun and all, but I got places I need to be." And with one cocky wink, he was gone, leaving a thoroughly confused Faith looking after him and wondering what in the hell had just happened.

"Oh thank God!" Dean breathed as they caught sight of the Impala parked up near the motel. "I was worried that he might have driven her right out of the city.

Whatever Sam had been about to reply was cut off by the sound of police sirens as the squad cars made themselves known.

"Crap."

It was just getting light by the time Buffy finally woke up in her hospital bed the the next morning. She was still drowsy, but the first thing that she determined was that she needed to check herself out. Which was exactly what she told her doctor the second he walked in to check on her.

He disagreed, of course, as all good doctors tended to do. Insisted that she needed to stay and rest while she healed up. But Buffy was determined. If she'd have had her slayer strength, she could have just forced her way out, but she didn't and also she wasn't sure what kind of drugs she was still hooked up to. Whatever they were, they were making her kind of dizzy.

Eventually he agreed, even as he pulled out a rather large and scary looking needle.

"What's that for?" she asked, her voice a little shaky as he advanced on her.

"You said you needed to leave," he declared innocently. "It would have been easier if you'd just stay put, but I can work around it."

Buffy didn't even have time to scream before the sleep inducing needle was poked into her arm.

The shapeshifter shook his doctor shaped head. This was getting far too easy.

Dean had been patient. He'd waited right up until morning, hiding and spying on his car.

Had the police been waiting for him there, or was it just a coincidence that they'd spotted him nearby?

But it had been hours, and he hadn't seen a single soul, and eventually he felt confident enough in sneaking over to it. He opened the door, making a mental note to kick the shifter extra hard for leaving her unlocked, before climbing inside.

"I'm sorry, baby," he said, patting the Impala on the steering wheel as he leaned down so that he could hot wire her.

First thing was first, he had to move his car somewhere the police wouldn't find her. Second, he was going back down to those tunnels. Screw what Sammy said. Sam was probably still stuck in a prison cell. He couldn't go to Buffy because he'd just get arrested and Faith was out of the question considering how he didn't have a single clue about where the hell she actually was.

So, tunnels it was.

Faith sat in the diner, stirring her coffee distractedly. She hadn't been back to the motel for the entire night, and no one had even bothered to call her and check if she was okay. Granted, she hadn't called them either, but that was besides the point.

But could she blame them, really? Wasn't this the kind of person she was? The kind that didn't come home sometimes, and nobody was surprised by that.

But after she and Dean had had their little thing last night, she thought he might have at least called to check in.

Sighing, she dropped some money on the counter and left the door. It was time to face the music.

Holy mothering freakin' crap.

The motel room was sealed off, and before Faith had been hustled away she had seen the splattering of blood on the carpet.

Who's blood was it?

Where was Buffy?

Dean?

Sam?

And why were they still not answering their cellphones?

Oh God, why did she have to be such a stubborn bitch? Why couldn't she have just gone back to the motel last night?

Fear for her friends causing her to break out into a cold sweat and her heart to beat painfully fast in her chest, Faith turned on her heel, ready to search every last inch of the city for her lost friends. If the shapeshifter had hurt them – or something else had hurt them – then they better pray for their evil, demonic lives.

This shapeshifter was one disgusting bastard, Dean decided, as he made his way through the discarded skin strewn sewers. It occurred to him that he had been down in the tunnels more times in the past couple of days than any normal person would have been during their entire lives. Okay, so sometimes their job really sucked.

Blobs of bloody, decaying skin were everywhere, and Dean gagged once as he almost put his hand in it.

Suddenly, he paused, sure that he had just heard a noise.

There it was again. A small, muffled whimper. Someone was down here. Walking faster, and still trying to keep quiet, Dean rounded a corner and stopped. Right ahead of him was another of the tarpaulin sheets that the shifter had thrown over him the last time he had been down here.

Scurrying forward, Dean quickly whipped the sheet off, and his heart broke at what he saw.

"Buffy," he whispered.

The first thing Sam did once he had been let out of prison was call up the hospital. A nurse confirmed that Buffy was still there and Sam hurried to be with her.

"Sam," she called out weakly when he entered the room. "God, I'm so glad to see you."

"Me too." He smiled and moved over to her side, grasping her hand. "How are you feeling?"

"Crappy," she replied, sitting up gingerly. "I need to get out of here."

Sam nodded. "I know. I don't want you here alone." He paused. "Buff, you do know it wasn't Dean, right?"

She nodded and squeezed his hand. "Of course I do. It was that stupid shapeshifting bastard, right?"

"Right." He nodded and let out a relieved smile, glad that he wasn't going to have to try and persuade her otherwise. His face became serious and he looked around nervously. "Okay, let's get you out of here."

The shapeshifter smiled to itself as it followed Sam Winchester out of the hospital, safe in the disguise of Buffy Summers. Fooling Sam had been too easy. He was perceptive, but clearly he didn't know Buffy well enough to figure out that she wasn't really her.

The frantic looking wild haired girl advancing towards them might be another problem, however.

"Jesus Christ all mighty! You scared the frikkin' crap out of me," Faith babbled, bringing the shapeshifter into a hug. "I went back to the motel room and there was blood everywhere and it was taped off and why the hell weren't any of you answering your damned cellphones?"

"Shapeshifter took them," Sam explained simply.

"And destroyed mine," the shapeshifter in Buffy's form added.

Faith pulled back and looked at Buffy and whistled. "Man, he did a good job on you." She paused her inspections and frowned. "You feel strange...different. Are you okay?"

The shapeshifter tried not to let its' panic show. Damn it all, it had forgotten about that stupid slayer bond thing. Forgotten that they could sense one another. This slayer was at full strength, and with the hunter, there would be no way for the shapeshifter to beat the both of them. "It's probably the drugs," she blurted. "Stupid thing gave me muscle relaxants."

Faith nodded, like that explanation made sense. "Just like your eighteenth birthday?"

"Sure."

Thank God she was more brawn than brains.

As the three walked down the street, they tried to figure out what they should do next.

"We need to find Dean," Faith pointed out.

Sam rubbed a distressed hand over his face. "But we have no idea where he is. You said you stopped by the motel, was his car still there?"

Faith shook her head. "No. And I looked around for it."

"Damn. He must have taken it somewhere. And it has all the weapons."

Faith snorted. "Like we need weapons. I think we should just head on down to the sewers and kill that thing."

"No!" Buffy protested. She cleared her throat uncomfortably when the other two looked her way in bafflement. "I don't think we should go down there."

"Why the hell not?" Faith asked.

"No, Buffy's right," Sam said, much to the shapeshifter's relief. "I mean, this shifter is clearly way smarter than the one we faced back in Cleveland. Stronger too. We need everyone on board. And with Buffy without her strength, we definitely need Dean. And the weapons."

Faith sighed. God, she hated patience! Whoever said that patience was a virtue clearly didn't have to go out and battle demons every day. "Fine, what do you think we should do then?"

"I don't know."

"Why don't we head over to Becky's?" Buffy suggested. "Maybe there's something else she can tell us?"

"Like what?"

Buffy shrugged. "Who knows? But we need to start somewhere."

"Guess it's better than no plan," Sam conceded. "Let's go."

"Looks like no one's home," Sam proclaimed after a good five minutes of knocking on Becky's door.

"Typical," Faith muttered, moving over to the window so that she could peer through.

"Faith," Sam hissed. "You can't just look through people's window's. It's..."

"Rude?"

"Weird," he finished.

"Whatever, Detective Manners. Come and look at this."

"Come look at what?"

Not answering him, she impatiently gestured both he and Buffy over.

Ignoring his own morals, Sam peered through the window.

"Oh God."

The inside of Becky's house looked a mess. Furniture was upturned and ornaments had been smashed. Something had clearly come for Becky, and she had obviously struggled.

Sam moved back over to the door. "Becky!" he yelled. "Becky, you in there?"

Faith rolled her eyes. "Yeah, 'cause that's gonna help."

"Well, what do you suggest?"

"She's clearly not here, or if she is, she's not willing or able to open up. We need to get inside. I could break the door down-"

"Or I could save us a visit from the police and just pick the lock," Sam suggested.

"Whatever."

Sam did as he said, and they were inside the house within minutes. The alarm by the door started to go off and Sam quickly shut it down.

"How did you know the code?" the shapeshifter asked curiously, her voice no higher than a whisper.

Sam shrugged. "I didn't. I just typed in Zach's birthday."

The Buffy lookalike refrained from rolling her eyes. Humans were so sentimental.

"Should we split up?" Sam asked.

"Buffy shouldn't be on her own," Faith replied instantly.

The shapeshifter nodded in agreement. "Yeah, really not up to my best right now. Why don't you go check upstairs and Sam and I will take a look around downstairs."

Faith nodded, and then disappeared through another set of doors. Moments later, they could hear the soft pads of her footsteps as she slowly mounted the stairs.

"Finally," Buffy whispered.

Sam looked at her in confusion. "Finally what?"

She grinned evilly. "Finally, I've got you all to myself."

Before Sam could say anything else, she lifted up a heavy ornament and hit him over the head with it. She darted forwards, catching him just before he hit the floor so that he wouldn't make any noise and alert Faith.

"OhGodohGodohGod," Dean mumbled to himself as he yanked out his knife to cut away the ropes that bound Buffy down.

She looked far worse than he had imagined. Bruised and cut all over, and fresh blood drying on the side of her face. The bastard must have taken her right out of the hospital and banged her up again before bringing her down into the tunnels.

With shaking fingers, he finally got her hands free.

As soon as she could, Buffy ripped out her gag and threw her arms around Dean, never so happy to see anyone in her entire life.

He didn't even think. Just wrapped his arms around her and pulled her as tight to him as he possibly could. He forgot about her injuries and so did she. Seeing her alive after spending the entire night worrying about her was like feeling the warmth of the sun for the very first time. It took his breath away. "It wasn't me," he mumbled desperately into her hair when he was once again able to form words. "I promise it wasn't me. Buffy, it wasn't me. You have to believe me." He repeated this over and over again.

"I know," she replied, digging her nose into his shoulder. "I knew it wasn't you as soon as I saw it. The very first second."

But Dean didn't seem to have heard her. "Sweetheart, I would never hurt you. Never."

"I know. I know you wouldn't."

He pulled back and cupped her face in his hands. "Wait, you knew?"

"Of course I did."

He leaned forwards and planted a long kiss on her forehead. She knew. She knew it wasn't him. How did she know him so well? How did he get so lucky to find someone so damned amazing that they could just look at him and know?

He leaned his forehead against hers, stroking her matted hair, pretending that there wasn't tears trickling down his cheeks.

Suddenly, Buffy pulled back.

"Buffy, what-"

She crawled away quickly over to where another body shaped sheet lay. Dean hadn't even noticed it. Buffy pulled it off quickly and uncovered a barely conscious Rebecca.

"Rebecca, are you okay?"

Rebecca stirred and groaned in pain, allowing Buffy to help her sit up and untie her. "What was that thing?" she asked, as terrified tears began to fall from her eyes. "I saw it...it changed...into you. It pulled off its...oh God, what was it?"

Buffy whipped around to face Dean. "It changed into me. That means it's probably going after Sam and Faith."

"But why take Rebecca."

She shook her head. "I don't know. Maybe to get her out of the way? Maybe it wants to use her house to do whatever it's planning."

"Why?"

"Because it's sick and twisted and likes playing games with people? Because that's kind of where this thing started with us? I don't know, Dean. But we have to go."

"You're right. Can you walk?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine. But you should probably get Becky."

"Okay." Dean leaned forward and scooped Becky easily up into his arms. "Come on, let's go."

"There's nothing up here," a severely disgruntled Faith called out as she stomped down the stairs, no longer bothering to be quiet. She knew they should have just gone down into the tunnels to find this thing. When no one answered, she huffed and called out their names. "This no one answering when I call thing is getting old fast," she grumbled to herself.

She let herself into the room that she had left Buffy and Sam in. "Hello?"

It was at that moment that she spotted Sam, tied up on the floor. He looked like he was in the process of waking up. With a worried curse, she started towards him, wondering what the hell had happened and where in Gods name Buffy had vanished to.

"Faith," Sam called out weakly, his eyes fluttering as he fought to stay awake. "Behind you."

She whipped around, just in time to see a silver eyed Buffy swinging a heavy ornament in the direction of her head. That might not have been enough to knock her out, but the blow she received as her head banged against the wall certainly was.

The shapeshifter looked down at Buffy's hands, admiring the slender way they were shaped. "As much as I like this body," she mused, before looking over at Sam and smiling sinisterly. "I think it'll be a whole lot more fun if I change back into your brother while I kill you."

Buffy followed Dean into Becky's house, her heart beating as she heard the unmistakable sounds of a fight being held. She ran after Dean towards the sound of the noise, fear in her heart for the lives of her friends.

"Get away from my brother, you bastard!" she heard Dean yell, before two loud shots rang out, echoing throughout the room.

The next thing Buffy heard was the sound of a body – the shapeshifter's, she realized with relief – hitting the wall and sliding down to the ground.

Everything seemed to slow down.

Dean lowered his gun, unable to take his eyes off the the dead shapeshifter that looked just like him, and Buffy glanced around the room with searching eyes. Sam, who had obviously been fighting the shapeshifter before they had arrived, was gasping and looking the worse for wear on the floor. His wrists were rubbed raw and as Buffy spotted the knife dug into a table and the cut ropes next to it, she thought she might know why.

The next thing she noticed was a slowly reawakening Faith, sporting a nasty egg shaped bruise on the side of her head, sprawled out not too far away from Sam. As she became more aware of her surroundings, Faith shook her head – wincing in pain – and climbed to her knees, crawling over to Sam to see if he was okay.

The room was in silence, aside from the quiet, pain filled moans emitting from Sam as Faith looked him over.

Buffy watched as Dean slowly made his way towards the dead shapeshifter. His movements were jerked and shaky. Seeing the thing that had hurt her and his brother was clearly affecting him deeply. He knelt down next to the body, pulling off the charm necklace that it had stolen from him and holding it tightly in his hand. As he stared at the shapeshifter, his face was filled with hatred, and a lone tear slipped down his face. Catching it, Buffy felt her heart break. Silently, she moved over to him and knelt behind where he was crouched, wrapping her arms around his body and leaning her forehead on his back. Even through his clothes, she could feel how hot his skin was. She pulled her arms around him tighter, offering him all the comfort she had to offer. He took it, grasping her hands in his and holding them to his chest.

"It's okay," she said soothingly. "It's over. It's dead and it's over."

No one else spoke for a long time.

Buffy and Dean held on to each other, and Sam and Faith did the same, watching the other two with blank expressions.

And this was how Rebecca found them as she stumbled in, tired of waiting in Dean's car, twenty minutes later.

"Well, you did it," Rebecca said to Sam the next morning.

"Did what?"

"Freed Zach." She shook her head. "I'm sorry that they're blaming your brother though."

"It'll be okay. They also think he's dead so it's not like they're gonna be hunting him down."

"Thank you, Sam." She reached up and pulled him into a bone-crushing hug. "You sure you don't wanna stay, wait until Zach gets home? I know he'd wanna see you."

Sam shook his head. "I'd love to, but I can't. We'd better get out of the city. Don't want anyone recognizing Dean."

She sighed. "So this is what you do? You and your brother, you hunt down these kinds of things..."

Buffy made her way out of Rebecca's house where they had slept the night before, struggling to lift up her heavy weapons bag.

"Need some help there, little darling?" Dean asked her teasingly, pulling the weapons bag out of her hand and lifting it up with pretend ease.

Buffy stuck her tongue out. "Knucklehead," she said, though there was obvious affection laced in with her insult. "When I get my strength back I'm so gonna beat you up."

Dean, shoving the bag into the trunk of his car, put his hand on his heart and gasped. "Big bully."

"Uh huh. And after that I'm gonna shove you in a locker and make you do all my math homework."

Dean chuckled at the imagery. "Why the hell did you take the weapons bag inside Becky's house last night anyway."

"I was beaten and tortured and tied up. Twice," Buffy reminded him dryly. "I like having my weapons around. They're like a comfort blanky."

"You totally went to sleep last night hugging your axe, didn't you?"

Buffy snorted and turned back to the house to get the rest of her stuff, but Dean saw the smile that she tried to keep hidden. He leaned back against the car and watched her with a smile of his own on his face as she walked away from him.

He felt someone come to stand next to him a moment later, but he didn't look up.

"It wasn't you, was it?" Faith finally spoke up after one long minute.

Dean finally dragged his eyes away from Buffy to look at Faith in confusion. "What wasn't me?"

"Last night? In the graveyard? Up against the mausoleum wall?"

Oh. Dean realized what must have happened with a start. Faith. And the shapeshifter. He didn't really know what to say to that, or how he was supposed to feel about it. Relief was at the top of the list, he supposed, for the fact that the shapeshifter had stopped at sex and not killed Faith while she was vulnerable. "No, it wasn't me."

Faith laughed, though it was more of a defeated sound than anything else. "I should have known, I guess. It's not like we've had sex since Cleveland, right."

Once again, Dean really didn't know how to reply. So he chose to say nothing.

"I guess karma really came to bite me in the ass," Faith continued with a snort.

"What do you mean."

Faith looked down. "It's not important. Just...me and B had this whole body swapping incident a while back. I did some pretty bad things involving her boyfriend. I guess you can never truly understand your actions until they've been done to you."

Dean turned back to watch the entrance of the house, smiling to himself as Buffy once again exited, laughing with Rebecca at something Sam had just said. Faith watched him watch her, a sad frown upon her face.

"She knew right away, didn't she?"

Dean didn't even need to ask Faith who she was talking about. Without even looking away from Buffy, he nodded silently. He doubted he could even have formed words anyway. Every time he thought about Buffy's admission, that she'd known it was him as soon as she saw him, it warmed him right through his entire body. For his brother to know was one thing. He and Sam had grown up together. Spent day in and day out training, hunting, traveling together. But the fact that Buffy knew it wasn't him immediately just blew him away. That must mean she cared about him, even a little, right?

Neither of them said anything else for a very long time.

They drove in silence for nearly two hours. There wasn't a single one of the four who weren't glad to be putting St. Louis far, far behind them.

Dean glanced behind him and smiled. Buffy and Faith were curled up together, asleep on the back seat. They looked peaceful, happy. It wasn't a look they ever wore when they were awake. He looked over at Sam, who was watching the passing scenery, a troubled look on his face. Dean was pretty sure he knew what the reason behind that expression was.

"I'm sorry," he said.

Sam turned to look at him, puzzled. "Why?"

"Because I think you get it now."

"Get what?" Sam asked, even though he was pretty sure he knew what his brother was talking about.

"Why we can't get close to people. Why we have to do this alone."

Sam looked into the backseat at Faith and Buffy. He'd do anything to keep them safe. They were his family now. Not like sisters, because even he had to admit that they were total babes and that occasionally he did have the occasional naughty dream abut them, and that would be just weird. But they were family, all the same. "Not completely alone," he said softly.

Catching the direction of Sam's glance, Dean shook his head. "You know what I mean."

Sam sighed. "Yeah, I do."

"I just...I never wanted you to have to learn that, truly I didn't. If I could take back the years, do something differently to make sure you had a normal life, I'd do it in a second."

"Dean, it's okay. Seriously. If you want to know the truth, the longer I spent with Becky the more I realized that I could never fit in with that crowd. I never did. Like you said, we're not normal. I've never been normal. Not even when I was at Stanford."

Dean snorted. "Well, that's 'cause your a freak. A strangely tall freak."

Sam chuckled. "Thanks, man. Way to make me feel better."

Dean shrugged. "No worries. I'm a freak too. And so are Faith and Buffy. Especially Buffy. She's the biggest freak of all." He smiled to himself. "And us freaks are all in this together. Right 'till the end."

Sam watched as Dean watched Buffy in the rear-view mirror. He watched as Dean watched her for a long time. Eventually he turned his focus back to the road, but more often than not, his eyes would flicker back, almost as if he was reassuring himself that she was still there.

Sam felt a sense of foreboding in his stomach. If what he thought was happening was really happening, if Dean was going and...falling for Buffy, then they might not all be together just as long as he thought.


	17. Chapter 17

Halloween

Disclaimer – Don't own anything you might recognize. They all belong to their respective owners.

AN – For the sake of the story, just pretend that Supernatural season 1 started a few months before Halloween instead of actually on the day (it's something I completely spaced about when I first started the story :s)

Halloween

SOUTH CAROLINA

Buffy and Faith giggled hysterically as they opened the door to their motel room. A disgruntled Dean followed behind, with an amused looking Sam bringing up the rear.

"Dean," Faith said, waving a hand in front of her nose. "You seriously need to shower. You smell like a campfire." She turned to look at him and promptly burst into laughter once more.

They had come to a small town in South Carolina to investigate a series of suspicious murders. Each victim had been young, attractive and according to locals, very vain. They had eventually narrowed down the suspect to a Lauren Balogh, a young girl of twenty who had committed suicide the month before after lifelong taunts about her unattractiveness. As they had gone to burn her remains, the ghost had appeared and headed straight for Dean, using his own tools to set him alight. Luckily, he had escaped with only a few minor burns and the loss of half an eyebrow, and Sam had successfully managed to salt and burn her grave.

"I don't see why that bitch came after me anyway," Dean complained back in the motel, ignoring Faith and moving over to the mirror to take a closer look at his singed eyebrow.

"Well, you were the one who figured out the ghost's M.O." Sam smirked at his elder brother. "She went after young, attractive, vain people."

"So you think she went after me because I'm pretty?"

Sam snorted at Dean's obliviousness. "Yeah, I'm sure that's it."

"Whatever, dude." He brought a hand up to cover his eyebrow, and then let it drop back down again. "Well, screw tomorrow night. I'm not leaving this motel room at all until the rest of my eyebrow grows back."

Buffy, who had just flopped down one one of the beds, sat up again abruptly. "Dean! You can't just 'screw' tomorrow night! You promised!"

"Yeah," Faith added. "We wanna party!"

"You always 'wanna party'."

Faith waved a dismissive hand at his comment. "Tomorrow's different. It's Halloween, man!"

"Which is why it's a dumb idea to go out anyway. Halloween sucks."

Sam nodded his head in agreement.

"Whatever, Dull and Duller," Faith countered. "You get to dress up and drink lots of booze. What sucks about that?"

"Besides, Faith and I want to go out. And if you guys don't come with us then we'll be left all alone, all by ourselves, in a big bad club where anyone could attack us poor little girls and then you'll be sorry you didn't come with us to keep us safe." Buffy looked very pleased with her argument.

"But you're slayers," Sam pointed out. "If someone tried to attack either one of you, you could break them into little pieces in a second."

Her face fell. "Yeah, that argument's never really gonna work with us, is it?"

"Anyway, it's not even about it being Halloween. It's about the fact that half of my freakin' eyebrow is missing!"

Buffy reached out and grabbed a hold of Dean's hand. "Please?" she begged, sticking out her bottom lip. "Pretty please? I'll even draw on the rest of your eyebrow for you if it makes you feel any better."

Dean looked down at her and cocked his half an eyebrow. As if he was going to be able to say no to that pout. "Fine," he grumbled. "But I am not dressing up."

"Me neither," Sam spoke up, somewhat surprised that his brother had given up so easily. But if they were all going...

Faith gave an airy laugh as she opened the door to their adjoining room. "Yes you are." Though her face held an amused expression, her tone of voice was steely and held no room for objections.

Sam gulped and looked over at Dean. "Guess we're dressing up for Halloween then."

The next evening, Dean was just changing into his costume when he heard the bathroom door opening. Looking up to see Sam exiting, he burst into loud peals of laughter. "Seriously? You dressed as Santa?"

Sam shrugged bashfully and kicked his boot on the floor. "It's all they had left at the store. Well, this and 'Beach Barbie'."

"Should have gone for the barbie." Dean chuckled again and shook his head.

"Well, what are you supposed to be?" Sam asked petulantly.

Dean opened up his arms and looked himself up and down, and then back at Sam as if it was obvious. "What do you think I'm supposed to be?"

"I dunno."

"I'm Brendan Fraser...from The Mummy?"

Sam stared at his brother for the longest time. "Why?" he questioned eventually.

Dean shrugged. "'Cause I get to wear a gun and no one will think anything of it." Yeah, that and that other reason...

"Right. Whatever, man. Where are the girls?"

"Still getting ready next door. Hold on." He moved over and banged on the door of the adjoining room. "What the hell are you doing?" he called. "You've been in there forever."

The door opened a little and Faith stuck out her head. "We're not ready yet."

Dean rolled his eyes. "How long will you be? Sam and I are ready to head out."

"Hang on a sec." Faith's head disappeared and Dean heard the sound of she and Buffy murmuring through the door. Before he could move closer so that he could hear them clearer, Faith's head was back. "We're gonna be another half hour. Why don't you guys head on out and make a start?"

"But how will you know where we are?"

"It's a small town. How many clubs can there be?"

Dean nodded his head, conceding her point. "Fine. Come find us when you're ready. But just remember you two are the ones who were whining about coming out tonight."

Faith grinned, ignoring his grumbles and disappearing behind the closed door once more.

"No way!" Buffy exclaimed, as she and Faith stood side by side outside on the street. They were both looking up at the name of one of the clubs. "You don't think..."

In neon pink, the flashing light read 'Willy's Place'.

"Nah," Faith dismissed. "Come on, it's not like there ain't more than one tacky Willy in the world. This could be anyone's place."

"I guess."

"We could go check it out though."

"Do you think the guys are in there?"

"Well, they weren't in that other place. And this is the only other bar we've come across."

"Good point."

A devil and a pirate strolled past them and wolf whistled, leering at the pair hungrily.

"Let's just go inside," Faith suggested.

"Yes please."

Dean leaned back in his seat and huffed, checking his watch for the fourth time in ten minutes.

Sam watched his brother bemusedly. "Dean, chill out. They'll be here soon."

"Hey, I am chilled. I'm always chilled. But they said they'd be half an hour and it's already been over an hour."

"Are you worried they've been hurt or something."

"No. I'm worried that we're waiting here for them like total idiots when neither of us even wanted to come out tonight in the first place."

"They'll get here. You know what girls are like. Why are you so stressed about this anyway?"

"I'm not stressed."

"Are you sure? Because if there's something you wanna talk about..."

"Like what?"

"I don't know." Sam shrugged casually. "Faith? Buffy..."

"Why would I want to talk about Buffy?"

Dean was doing that closed off thing he liked to do so well. Sam sighed. "Never mind. Forget I said anything."

"Gladly."

As they finished off their beers, they talked a little more about the case and where they thought they should head out to next. Sam wanted to go to Idaho where a series of parents seemed to be going crazy and killing their children, and Dean wanted to head into California where a couple of women had disappeared and one eyewitness had sworn blind that they had been taken by trolls. Dean suspected that Sam was likely to win this one.

"If we pack up and head out first thing tomorrow morning we can get there by..." Sam's voice trailed off as he stared at something behind Dean's shoulder.

"Sam?" Dean waved a hand in front of his brother's face. "Sammy, what?"

Sam broke out into a toothy grin and he nodded towards the entrance of the bar. "Dude, check it out."

Sighing, Dean swiveled around in his chair, his frown turning into an amused chuckle once he realized what his brother was talking about. Faith was stood at the top of the stairway, right next to the entrance, one hand on her hip as she surveyed the room. She was wearing a 1950's style sundress – white, with red roses. It was belted tightly at the waist and poofed outwards up to where it stopped just below her knees. Her hair was pulled back into an elegant bun, and she looked far from the Faith that both of them had come to know.

Dean's chuckles came to an abrupt halt as a woman shyly stepped out from behind Faith. His mouth opened but no sound came out as he surveyed her, time seeming to disappear completely. She was a goddess. Literally. Her long, simple white wrap was belted together underneath her breasts with only a gold piece of rope, and one perfect leg was sticking out – thigh to heel. Long, chestnut hair fell in waves around her waist, held back from her face by a crown of golden leaves. It was Buffy. Of course it was Buffy, because no other woman on this earth had the power to render him dry mouthed and speechless and crazy and horny all from a single glance in the way that she could.

The rest of the world came back into focus as his brother stood up and waved his arms to get their attention. Goal achieved, he sat back down, still grinning. "Man, they look awesome don't they? Maybe Halloween's not so bad after all. I guess it could be fun."

"Whatever, Santa," Dean quipped, shaking himself out of his Buffy induced daze.

Buffy giggled as she spotted Sam stand up from his table to wave them over.

"What a dork," Faith crowed as they took in his Santa costume, though there was a good natured look in her eyes that showed Buffy that she was only joking.

"Maybe he's trying to make a point," Buffy suggested as they descended the stairs.

"Oh yeah, and what would that be?"

Buffy shrugged. "He doesn't like Halloween, so maybe he's pretending it's a different holiday. Christmas."

Faith snorted and paused so that she could turn look at her fully. "God I'd love to know what goes through your mind, sometimes." They continued onwards towards the table. "What's Dean dressed up as? I can't see."

"Me neither. I'm surprised he actually bothered..."

As they reached the table, the two men stood up to make space for Buffy and Faith. Buffy glanced at Dean and her mouth dropped open. "Rick O'Connell!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together excitedly. "That's like, my favoritest film of all time! I love him!"

"I know."

"What?"

Dean's eyes widened at his slip. "Uh...what?" He was kind of screwed if she found out that he'd only dressed up like this to impress her.

Thankfully, Buffy was far too mesmerized by his outfit to have paid any real attention. He had it all down. The knee length boots, the shirt, the blue neck scarf. The very tight, tan breeches. Oh boy, the very tight, tan breeches. They clung to him perfectly, and they were making her feel a little hot inside. "You look great," she remarked breathlessly.

"So do you. You look...beautiful. I like the hair. Brunette suits you."

They smiled at each other, and would have kept on doing so had Faith not cleared her throat expectantly.

Dean turned to her. "Hey! You look awesome too!" But his response was delayed and a little forced and they all knew it.

Faith crossed her arms and looked between Buffy and Dean, clearly unimpressed. Her eyes were narrowed and Buffy thought it looked like she might have been trying to decipher the odd moment that had just occurred between she and Dean. Well, she hoped someone would figure it out, because she had absolutely no clue what was going on. Not that anything was going on, she quickly amended to herself. Because she didn't even like the guy. Not at all. Not even with his skin tight breeches. Oh dear.

"I think I'll go get a drink," Buffy announced, desperate for anything to dispel of the awkward silence. She moved to get up but Dean put a hand on her arm to stop her.

"No worries, I'll get them."

Coward, Buffy thought. Oh yeah, Buffy could read him just fine, and he was just as uncomfortable with the sticky situation as she was. Only now he was pretending to be all generous with the drink buying when he was really just looking for an escape. And not fair! He had totally stolen hers!

After determining everybody's order, he got up to leave, squeezing past Buffy on his way to the bar. Buffy gulped as she got a good eyeful of his breeches clad butt. Yeah, those pants hid nothing. She wondered if she could somehow persuade Dean to wear those pants every single day for the rest of his entire life.

She watched him walk away, and then turned her eyes back to the table. Faith was staring at her with a fierce scowl, and Buffy instantly knew that she'd just seen her checking out her boyfriend's ass. Uh oh.

"Uh...I'm gonna go help with those drinks!" she jabbered. She hoped her voice didn't sound as suspiciously high pitched to Faith and Sam as it did to herself.

Faith said nothing, so Buffy jumped up and scampered after Dean.

"Oh my God! Willy! It is you!"

Dean started in surprise as he heard Buffy's excited voice speak up beside him. He glanced from her to the weaselly looking guy behind the bar, and back again. "You know this dude?"

"Slayer? That you? Well blow me over, it is you! What are you doing here?" Willy's face dropped. "You're not gonna punch me are ya? 'Cause I gotta tell you I don't go for none of that demon stuff no more. So whatever you're after, I know nothing. 'Willy's Place' is strictly human only."

Buffy waved a dismissive hand. "No. I'm just here to party. No business on the agenda, I promise."

"That's good. What're you having? Drinks are on me."

"Well all right!" Dean cheered. "I like this guy already."

They gave him their order and he busied himself with pouring their drinks.

"So this is where you set yourself up after Sunnydale?" Buffy asked interestedly.

"Well, I tried Alabama, and then Alaska, but none of those places really did it for me, you know? And then I met a lovely woman by the name of Renee – that's her over there." He pointed to a plump blonde woman pouring drinks at the other end of the bar. "She made an honest man outta me, and then we found ourselves a place up here."

"That's really nice, Willy," Buffy cooed, feeling some kind of nostalgia for the old Sunnydale days. "I'm glad you're happy."

"What about you?" he asked as he placed their glasses down in front of them. "This your fella over here?" He glanced at Dean. "Handsome guy. Looks a lot friendlier than your previous manly friends."

Buffy blushed. "No! No. This is Faith's uh...friend."

Willy turned a shade pale. "Faith's here. She's not still...uh, evil, is she?"

"No!"

Willy, clearly not quite believing her, soon moved on to other customers, and Buffy picked up two of the glasses so that she could take them back over to their table. Dean moved to follow her, and then paused. "Wait...Faith was evil?"

Back at the table, Faith's earlier bad temper seemed to have vanished and she was now in high spirits. Whether that was due to the arrival of alcohol or the fact that she had won a twenty off of Sam after an arm wrestle, Buffy wasn't sure.

Hours passed, and eventually Faith seemed to grow bored. She threw her arms above her head and yawned unconvincingly. "Man, I'm beat," she lied, looking straight at Dean with a suggestive smirk. "Why don't you take me back to the motel room and we can get me off...to sleep." She winked cheekily.

But Dean wasn't even looking in her direction, let alone concentrating on anything she was really saying. "I was thinking me and Buffy should do a patrol tonight," he said. "It's bound to be crazy with it being Halloween."

Buffy frowned. "Haven't we just spent the past hour telling you how Halloween is evil's night off?"

"No, you've just spent the past hour telling us about all the messed up things that have happened on Halloween," he corrected. "So your 'bad guys don't like to come out on Halloween' theory is a whole bunch of crap."

"Yeah, but most of those things that happened were all down to humans. I mean, the turning into our costume thing was Ethan's fault, the frat party disaster happened because of a bunch of stupid collage boys." Buffy paused and pulled a face. "Dawn did almost get turned one year 'cause a few vamps were trying to be badass 'rebels'..."

"Well there you go." Dean seemed satisfied that he had won and was already standing up. "Do you really want some girl just like Dawn getting hurt because we didn't go out just in case something might not have happened?"

Damn it, he was right. She couldn't exactly shirk her responsibilities, even if she did want to stay and party. And he had to go and play the sister card on her. Asswipe. She heaved a gigantic sigh. "I guess." She studiously avoided looking at Faith as she stood up. "You guys might as well stay and have some fun. This town's pretty small. I bet there's only one or two graveyards in the whole place. We'll do a sweep and hopefully won't be back too late."

"Be careful," Sam warned, as he always did.

After they had left, Faith and Sam sat in a very awkward silence for a long, long time. Faith's expression was stony, and Sam wasn't really sure what to say. He was pretty certain that she'd never been turned down for...that...ever. Especially not by Dean.

He coughed. "Do you, uh...do you want another drink?"

"No." Ouch. Who knew so much venom could be forced into one single word.

"Wanna dance?"

"No."

"Want me to leave you alone?"

"Yes."

Oh. Well then. He looked at her closely to see if she was joking. She wasn't. "Right," he said slowly. "I should probably get back to the motel anyway. Gonna need to catch up on my sleep if we're heading out early tomorrow."

She glared at him expectantly, waiting for him to leave.

Once he'd gone, Faith sighed pitifully and downed the rest of her drink, suddenly feeling very alone. She shouldn't have been such a bitch to him. Damn, she didn't really know what was wrong with her. Life was great! She was on the road with her best friend and a couple of hunks, fighting evil and kicking ass. What more could she want? Maybe she was just antsy because she hadn't actually gotten a kill in with that bitch of a ghost. Salting and burning was good and all, but it didn't exactly leave you with that wicked post slay feeling. And Dean wasn't making things any easier. Whenever she got this way – got this unsatisfied feeling – she knew the best fix was a good, hard screw, and Dean had been the perfect solution. Good sex, without the pesky feelings involved. But they hadn't actually had sex since before they killed that Hatoss dude, and man was she getting frustrated. And she knew it wasn't her fault, because she'd been making come on after come on. It was him. And despite what she'd been thinking earlier, she didn't think it was Buffy's fault either. So Dean might have the hots for Buffy, who didn't? There was no way he'd ever do anything about it. He might be a player but he understood the bond she and Buffy held. It was similar to his and Sam's in a way. And there was no way he'd ever do anything to jeopardize that. Same went for Buffy. They were closer than they'd ever been. Buffy would never do anything to betray her.

Okay, she seriously needed to get over this. When had she become so damn paranoid? She glanced at her empty glass and frowned. A drink would make a good start. She moved over towards the bar, grinning as she spotted a hulk of a guy dressed up as a vampire. Well wasn't that just precious? She winked at him and he smirked back, edging closer as he looked her up and down appreciatively.

An hour later, she was crying out in pleasure as he screwed her up against his apartment door.

"So?" Dean asked, as he and Buffy walked side by side through the only graveyard in town.

"So what?" a confused Buffy wanted to know.

Dean shrugged bashfully. "So are you gonna stay? With me..us, I mean. Are you gonna stay with us?" Aw crap, he could not get his words out. "It's just you said you were going to wait until after the first hunt and then decide whether you wanted to stay or-"

"Do you want me to stay?"

"Yes," he answered instantly.

"I want to stay, too."

"So...you're staying."

"Guess I am."

"Good."

"Good?"

"Yeah."

They lapsed into silence, and Buffy was left wondering when things had changed between them. It was subtle. A change that she hadn't even realized was occurring. They'd been fighting less and less, and then having actual conversations more and more. And dare she say it, beginning to actually enjoy each others company. It was strange. When had they become...friends? "You're still very annoying, though," she thought it important to mention.

"Yeah? Well you're still a bitch."

This was more like it. "Wow, and the originality just keeps on coming."

Dean was about to respond when the beam of a flashlight shone directly into his eyes. Both he and Buffy fell into a fighting position as they tried to discover the source of its location.

"Stop right there!" a voice sounded. The beam lowered, and they saw that it was no bad guy, just a police officer. "Mind explaining to me what you're doing out here?" he asked.

"Just taking a walk," Dean proclaimed quickly.

"In a graveyard?"

"Yuh huh."

"I only ask because we've had a bit of trouble last night. Wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

"Trouble?"

"Grave desecration. Arson."

Whoops. "Ew!" Buffy expressed, feigning disgusted surprise. "Who would wanna mess around with graves?"

"That's exactly what I'm wondering. Just like I'm wondering what a couple of youngsters like yourselves are doing out here so late at night."

Thinking fast, Dean slipped an arm around Buffy's waist, pinching her when she moved to protest. "Look, officer," he said in a low voice. "We're kind of on a date here. It's Halloween, the stars are out. I thought maybe if I brought her out here she'd get scared and wanna stay a little closer to me, you know?" He winked for effect, and Buffy had to restrain from rolling her eyes.

The police officer crossed his arms. "You're not from around here, are you? It's a small town, I wouldda seen you before."

"No sir, we're just passing through."

"Ah, with that other young man, right? The tall one?"

Dean frowned suspiciously. "Why'd you ask?"

"Because you should have said. He was very pleasant. Asked all sorts of weird questions, but pleasant nonetheless."

That was right. Sam had gone to the station to find out information about the case. "Yeah, that's Sammy alright. Pleasant as a daffodil."

The police officer yawned and checked his watch. "It's getting late, kids. Why don't you get outta here so I can get home to my wife?"

"Will do." Dean nodded and lead Buffy out of the graveyard.

As soon as they hit the pavement outside, Buffy shrugged off his arm and thumped him in the shoulder. "God, could you be any more of a shmuck?"

"Hey, I just saved our hides in there!"

Buffy hated to admit that he was right. And so she wouldn't. "Whatever. This patrol has been a total bust. The only annoying evil out tonight is you."

Dean looked offended. "I'm not evil."

"Just annoying then. Can we just go back to the motel now?"

"Sure. I guess the bad guys really don't come out on Halloween."

"That's because I was right and you were wrong."

"I wasn't wrong, I was just cautious."

"Cautiously wrong."

He looked up into the sky desperately. "Please can I shoot her, God?"

"You know what," Buffy huffed. "I don't even care what you think. Because you're a dork."

"A dork? Summers, that hurts."

"Ugh. And here I was beginning to think you weren't so bad." She turned on her heel and began to stalk in the opposite direction.

"Where are you going?" he called.

"Back to the motel."

Shrugging, he loped after her, slipping his arm back around her waist once he'd reached her. Buffy stopped.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Police officer might be watching."

They both knew he wasn't. They both knew that he had gone almost as soon as he had sent them on their way. Yet neither of them felt compelled to remove his arm. And so he didn't.


	18. Chapter 18

Christmas Kisses

Disclaimer – Don't own anything you might recognize. They all belong to their respective owners.

Christmas Kisses

The early morning was more than beautiful, despite the close to freezing temperature. The just rising sun cast a sparkle on the snow blanketed ground, and the chilled air was fresh and clear. The only source of movement came from the flap of wings, or the scurry of little paws.

Deafening silence filled the air. Silence that was only broken by the sound of pounding feet on the icy ground as two young women jogged side by side, each smirking as they tried to best each other in speed.

"So, I was thinking," Buffy called, panting only a little.

"About what?" Faith replied.

"Christmas."

"What about it?"

Buffy spotted a frost covered bench up a head of her, and gestured towards it. Faith nodded, and followed Buffy over, stopping in front of it to stretch out her leg muscles.

Buffy flopped down, ignoring the icy coldness that seeped into her jogging shorts.

"It's next week," she answered finally.

"So?"

"I was thinking we could do something for it. Something holidayish. Go somewhere, you know? Like, demon free."

Faith paused and raised her eyebrows in surprise. "You don't wanna go to Cleveland?"

Buffy shrugged. "Nah. I mean, I thought about it and all, but I'm not really ready to head back that way yet. I just have this feeling that once I go back, they'll make it hard for me to leave again."

Faith gave a nod of understanding and went back to her stretches. "Well, I guess we could talk to the guys about it when we get back to the motel. We've been working hard these past couple of months. We deserve a break." And she probably would have agreed to anything after Buffy had admitted that she didn't want to go back to Willow and Xander and the others just yet. "Thinking of anywhere in particular."

"I don't know. Somewhere warm, maybe?"

"You want to spend Christmas somewhere warm? What about the snow? Isn't snow a part of getting into the whole Christmas spirit thing?"

"Guess I'm just missing all those warm Christmas' in Sunnydale. I'm feeling sentimental."

Faith's eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. "I seem to remember it snowing in Sunnydale at Christmas."

"That was like, one time. It was an anomaly."

It would maybe be nice to chill out for a couple of days, Faith mused, as she pondered Buffy's request. The guys would probably kick up a fuss, being the Grinch's of every single holiday known to man and all, but she was pretty sure she and Buffy could swing them. Hell, they'd done it before, plenty of times. "Right then. Somewhere warm it is."

"And demon free. Don't forget demon free."

Faith chuckled, and pulled Buffy to her feet. "Somewhere warm and demon free. Got it."

ARIZONA

"I can't freakin' believe this," Dean grumbled to himself as he sat next to an excited Buffy on an extremely uncomfortable chair in an airport that had clearly never heard of air conditioning. He wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead and glared over at Sam and Faith, who were sat opposite them and looking like they were about to burst into hysterical laughter at his attitude.

"You look a little stressed, Dean," a highly amused looking Sam commented. "Are you worried about all the big nasty airplanes? Don't worry about them, big bro, they can't hurt you down here."

"Screw you." It actually wasn't the airplanes that were bothering Dean. They only...perturbed him when he was actually in them and they were above ground. The real reason he was in such a foul mood was because they were in the airport, waiting for goddamned Andrew to arrive.

Yeah, Andrew.

Merry screwin' Christmas.

Oh yeah, and Buffy's little sister was coming too. Dawn or whatever. She was on school break and had been spending it in Cleveland so when Buffy had called Andrew to see if he wanted to come join them for Christmas, she had jumped all over it too.

So here they were, waiting for Dawn. And Andrew.

Dean was pretty sure he'd expressly forbidden any visits from Andrew. Ever. Dammit.

He didn't know why they were doing this anyway. Having this whole big Christmas deal. It was ridiculous. But Buffy had pleaded with him and she had used her big eyes and stupid pouty lip and honestly, he couldn't remember the last time he had said no to her for anything. Bitch.

Dean's thoughts were rudely interrupted when Buffy suddenly squealed way too loud and jumped out of her seat, throwing herself towards the arms of a tall, equally loud, brunette girl.

"Dawn!" Buffy yelled delightedly.

Faith stood up, a grin on her face as she moved over towards the girl she hadn't seen in months, and Sam followed her to be introduced.

Dean considered getting up himself but decided against it, opting to forgo the whole chick lit, girly hugging moment. They could all do the soppy crap without him. He closed his eyes and groaned as he anticipated the rest of the holiday, leaning his head back against his chair and wishing with everything he had in him that he could just be invisible.

When he felt something shift in front of him, he opened his eyes and looked up into the smiling face of Andrew.

"Hey, cowboy!"

Dean sank down further into his chair.

Buffy was pissed. So much for a quiet, demon free Christmas. And okay, so maybe there had been no demons. Unless stupid, angry spirits counted as demons.

And yeah, fine, it hadn't exactly been the hardest job ever, but it had been two days before Christmas and it had seriously been close to dampening her holiday spirits.

They'd been on their way back from the airport after picking up Dawn and Andrew when they'd gotten stuck in a traffic jam. After forty five minutes of sitting in the same spot and having to listen to Andrew's endless chatter about Pokemon and Dawn's relentless gushing about Bailey the 'Ohmigod totally hottest, cutest most adorable guy ever and he's like, totally in my class and he sits next to me and last week when he looked at me I almost died!' guy, Dean had harrumphed and bolted from the car, declaring that he was going to find out what was going on. Rolling her eyes at his over dramatic behavior, Buffy had followed.

They had reached the source of the commotion when they had come across a large bridge. Turned out a man had jumped off and killed himself earlier that day. A man who had been newly married, newly promoted, and expecting a child. A man who had been completely happy with his life and had no reason at all to want to end it. Dean had rolled his eyes as he overheard a police officer musing over the fact that the same thing had happened on this exact date every year for the past nine years.

Well if this wasn't a piece of cake.

Once they had gotten out of the traffic jam, they had headed straight for the town library to research the local history. It came as a surprise to no one when they learned that a man had jumped from that bridge, exactly nine years ago. After questioning a few people – and threatening a few more – they had discovered that the man hadn't in fact jumped, he had been pushed. It had been an accident – just a bunch of drunken friends, fooling around. But fun with the guys had ended up with one dead body and his friends, scared and afraid, had pretended that they weren't even with him when he 'jumped'. A quick dose of salting and burning the body later and they were done.

Easy case, easily dealt with.

And Buffy could finally get back to enjoying Christmas. With her family.

"So, is this what you imagined when decided you wanted to celebrate Christmas properly?" Sam asked Buffy, a teasing smile on his face.

She studied her surroundings with a raised brow as she took a sip of her drink.

They were in a bar. A dingy looking bar at that. The kind often frequented by older, hardened men who had no families to go home to. But it had been the only place open on Christmas day and Buffy had insisted on goingsomewhere other than the motel room. And the owner of the bar had clearly made an effort to make the bar less...dingy, and more...Christmassy. Christmas lights and tinsel were wrapped around every available surface, and holiday music was blaring out of an old jukebox. It was surprisingly busy. The regulars had given up their grumpy solitude for the night and had welcomed the six of them with jolly, open arms. And the single barmaid was just as friendly, just as welcoming. In her early forties, with red hair, a stern face and kind eyes, she was being kept busy keeping the men on track, making sure things stayed jolly and that no one had too much to drink. It was the kind of place where bar fights were a regular occurrence, and nobody wanted trouble on Christmas day.

"You know what," Buffy said, grinning back at Sam. "It's even better."

Sam laughed loudly and asked her if she wanted another drink. And planning on being at least pleasantly tipsy by the time the night was out, Buffy agreed. Ever the gentleman, Sam offered to get drinks for the rest of the table, and as he stood up, Dean followed to help him.

Before he left the table, Dean looked over at Buffy and winked. She stuck her tongue out at him and he chuckled quietly as he left. Buffy watched him go, smiling stupidly.

Dawn had seen the whole encounter, and was now watching her sister, a puzzled frown marring her features. She spoke to Buffy regularly on the phone and had been subjected to endless rants about how annoying Dean was and what a jerk Dean was and how stupid his stupid sticky up hair was and why did he have to be such an ass all the time anyway? And sure, lately there had been less Dean talk. In fact, every time Dawn brought up his name to see how it was going Buffy would change the conversation...quickly.

And so the fact that Buffy was gazing at Dean as he walked away with a smile approaching dreamy on her face had Dawn quite the bit confused. Quickly, she glanced over at Andrew, who was busy thumb wrestling with Duncan the builder on the opposite side of the table, and at Faith, who was dancing near the jukebox. Assuring herself that there was no chance of being overheard, she edged closer to her sister and nudged her with her shoulder. "You like him, don't you?"

Buffy's head whipped around so fast that her hair flew right into Dawn's face, giving her a nose full of Herbal Essence. Dawn almost laughed at the way her older sister's eyes widened.

"What?" Buffy hissed. "I don't like Dean! That's stupid! Stupider than stupid. It's...dumb! Incredibly dumb. In fact, the only thing dumber than me liking Dean is...is...is me liking Andrew."

"Yeah, I never said Dean."

Buffy's face dropped. "Oh."

"Busted."

"Have I told you lately how much I hate you?"

"You don't hate Dean though, do you?"

"Dawn, will you quit it? Did you not hear the dumb speech?" Buffy glanced around nervously to make sure that no one could overhear them. "I do not like Dean. I mean, I like Dean, but not like like. I mean...wait, what do I mean?"

"You mean that you want to make naughty monkey love with him and have all of his babies and live in a big castle filled with little mini monkey Buffies and little mini monkey Deans." She frowned and looked down at the almost empty drink in her hand. "And I think that's enough for me," she mentioned, delicately placing her glass down.

"Oh my God, Dawn! What the hell are they teaching you over in England? You know, I don't think that the university over there is good for you. Maybe you should come back home and go to collage here and-"

"Okay, first of all, I'm eighteen. I can do what I want, and no way am I coming home yet. I'm having way too much of a blast over there."

"How much of a blast?" Buffy asked sternly.

Dawn blushed and ducked her head, picking her drink back up and downing it nervously. "Uh...just a...normal amount of blastiness," she uttered in a small voice. Buffy made a mental note to have words with Robin and Gunn as Dawn continued. "Anyway, uh...secondly, stop trying to change the subject. Don't think I don't know what you're doing. I may have been gone a while, but I can still read you like a book. You like him."

Buffy considered fighting her sister some more on the point, but the truth was, she was just so tired of it. Tired of lying to herself, to Faith. Tired of trying to hide those stupid, annoying feelings. Tired of trying to make them go away. She sighed in defeat and leaned her body forwards to bang her forehead against the sticky surface of the table. "Fine. I like him, okay? I like him like, maybe seriously really properly like like him."

Dawn regarded the pathetic display Buffy was putting on and rolled her eyes. "So you like him. What's the problem?"

Buffy lifted her head, grimacing as she tried to wipe away the sticky residue on her cheek. "Faith," she replied, as though the answer should be obvious.

"What about her?"

"What do you mean, what about her? You know she had a thing with Dean."

"You told me they weren't having a...thing, anymore. You said he told you that it had been over for ages."

"So?"

"So that means he's free."

Buffy shook her head. "It's not that simple, Dawn. Imagine if you'd been dating a guy, and then a couple of weeks after you'd broken up you discovered that I was dating him. How would that make you feel?"

Dawn thought about Bailey and grimaced. "Yeesh. You have a point."

"Exactly. I'm doomed. It's a big circle of doomy doomedness. I can't go home because I'm actually kinda happy for the first time in a long time and I'm just so not ready to give that up yet."

"You're happier here than you were in Cleveland? And by here I mean everywhere."

Buffy shrugged helplessly. "I feel like I'm helping people more than I have done since Sunnydale collapsed."

"Go on."

"I just...I just see him every day and gah! I don't even know how this happened! I mean, I didn't even like him at first. He was all annoying and sarcastic and okay we had the whole looking out for our younger sibling in thing in common but it didn't exactly make us best bosom buddies, you know? And then he was just around all the time and I started looking for him whenever I entered a room and actually wanting his company and now my tummy feels all squiggly when he smiles at me and I just like to look at him all the time and then I think, what if Faith sees me? What if she notices me staring and she can tell that I'm totally crushing on her guy like I'm some kind of teenager again? I'm seriously confused."

Dawn nodded slowly. "You really are."

"Not helping, Dawn."

"Not trying to."

"Well try. I need advice from my wise, taller than me sister."

"You wanna know what I think?" Buffy nodded eagerly and Dawn continued. "I think that you should at least talk to him. See how he feels about you. And then if he feels the same, you should talk to Faith. Maybe she'd be okay with it. It's not like she married the guy or anything. They were only doing it for a few weeks, right?"

"Ah, I see you're favoring the mature approach."

Honestly, Dawn's plan did sound sensible to Buffy's ears. It sounded like the kind of thing that normal, rational people did. Thing was, none of them were normal. Or rational. And she just didn't think that Faith would be okay with it. She would see Buffy moving in on her man as some kind of betrayal. "Dawn, I don't think-"

"God, you're such a chicken!"

Buffy paused in surprise. "What?"

"You clearly like this guy, and it's totally freaking you out. That's why you're so scared."

Buffy scoffed. "I'm not scared."

Dawn crossed her arms and pulled the smug expression she had perfected wonderfully over her eighteen years. "Fine, you're not scared. Then prove it."

Buffy opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, trying to come up with some kind of argument. And then suddenly she tensed her jaw and narrowed her eyes. "Fine."

And with a deep breath, she stood up.

Faith was dancing seductively over by the jukebox when she noticed that Dean was no longer sitting at the table. She watched as he and Sam moved over towards the bar, and ran her hands down her body and swayed her hips, waiting for him to look her way. He didn't, though nearly every other male in the room did.

Sam spoke to the barman, and then turned and leaned against the bar next to Dean as he waited for their order. The two brothers spoke softly to each other for a few moments, and Faith wasn't oblivious to the fact that Dean's gaze kept sweeping past his brother and towards the table he had just vacated.

Sam said something to Dean and he nodded, and then Sam began to walk away.

Enough was enough, Faith decided with sudden determination. If she wanted him to notice her, she'd just have to make him notice her. And now was the perfect time to do it.

"Hey, I just have to run to the mens room, okay?" Sam told Dean, as the two of them waited by the bar. "You'll be okay waiting for the drinks?"

Dean nodded. "Sure, whatever, man."

"'Kay. Be right back."

Dean turned back to the bar to wait, and the barman signaled that he was almost done.

And then Dean felt a powerful pair of hands grab a hold of his shoulders and spin him around, pressing his back to the bar once more. Before he could even blink, hands were pulling at his head and a pair of firm, demanding lips were planted securely on his.

For a second, he almost let himself believe that it was Buffy. Almost let himself believe that she was the one kissing him, she was the one who had gotten up and done something that he was seriously lacking in courage to do, even though he kind of wanted to do it more than anything else in the whole world.

But he'd kissed these lips before. He'd smelled this scent before. He'd felt this body pressed up against his before.

Faith pulled back and looked up at him, hunger in her eyes. "Hello, stranger," she murmured, before capturing his lips with hers once more.

Buffy, pushing her way through a crowd of drunken, singing men, placed a hand across her belly, trying to calm down the raging butterflies inside. She was nervous. So nervous that she felt a little bit sick. But in an odd, reassuring way, the nerves were kind of nice. She was doing something that millions of other girls had done. She was just a girl, not a slayer or a hunter. Just a girl, going to tell a guy that she maybe wanted to be with him. It felt normal. It felt good.

She sighed in relief when she finally pushed herself out of the rowdy crowd.

And then she stopped.

"Oh," she breathed, as she spotted Dean not ten feet away from her. Dean. And Faith.

It was stupid, really. That the butterflies inside of her stomach had vanished into the big black hole that had just erupted inside of her, leaving her to feel nothing. To feel numb. It wasn't like she hadn't know about Faith and Dean. Hell, that's what all of her angsty thoughts had been about lately.

But...

Dean had told her that he and Faith weren't together anymore. Not since Cleveland, he'd said. Had he been lying? Or had she just completely gotten a hold of the wrong end of the stick.

Gah! And she had just been about to tell him that she...

God, moving in in your friend's ex was one thing, but if he and Faith were still...

Ignoring the tears pooling in her eyes that she would never allow to fall, Buffy span around and pushed her way back through the crowds, desperate to be anywhere but there.

Finally getting over his shock at Faith's random kiss attack, Dean opened his eyes as he contemplated the best and kindest possible way to push her back and turn her down.

But luck was not on his side, for when he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was Buffy, turning and walking away, disappearing into a crowd. There was no doubt in his mind that she had just witnessed Faith kissing him. His entire body went cold.

"Fuck!" he cursed, all ideas of gentleness gone as he pulled away from Faith. She went to grab his shoulders back but he ducked and brushed her hands away.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" she questioned as he turned to leave her. Her voice was low and she was clearly annoyed, but Dean didn't care. Not at that moment.

He was focused on only one thing, and that was finding Buffy and making sure that she didn't think what she had just seen meant anything. He wasn't completely sure why it was so important that he tell her, but he had told her that things with him and Faith were done and goddammit he had thought that it was true.

He rushed in the direction that he had seen her go, cursing the fact that the crowd of merry men had grown so thick. They were huddled together and making movement quite impossible.

But someone must have seen the desperation on his face because they stepped aside, encouraging others to follow suit. With a sigh of relief, he stepped through and managed to continue onwards. Which he did. For about five seconds.

And then he stopped, and he felt all of the color drain from his face as he spied the last thing that he ever wanted to see.

Stood in the middle of the crowd of men were the figures of the two people he knew better than almost anyone in the entire world, save his dad, maybe. But even that was questionable. Who really knew John Winchester?

But that was besides the point.

There was just one point. One stupid, horrible, very sharp point, and it had just been harshly jammed straight into the center of Dean's heart.

Sam and Buffy.

Buffy and Sam.

Kissing.

And by the way that Sam's tongue had just slipped into her mouth, he highly doubted it was just a friendly holiday good cheers kind of kiss.

Dean hated it. He hated it so much that he felt as if there was a fire raging inside of his chest that was about to burst forth and consume everyone in this bar.

He hated that for a moment, he hated Sam, and Buffy, and himself. He hated that he felt so angry and hurt and suffocated, all in the space of a single breath.

This was ridiculous. She wasn't even his girl. She was Sam's, apparently. He wondered if this was a new thing, or if they had been screwing in secret all along, laughing at him behind his back. Which was stupid, he knew, because Sam would never laugh at him or purposely make a fool out of him. And neither would Buffy. And so the anger he was feeling was decidedly unjust. Whatever Sam and Buffy were doing, they weren't doing it to purposely upset him.

Whatever. It still hurt.

There was only one thing he wanted now. Oblivion.

Twirling around, he pushed his way back through the crowds, taking no care to make sure he didn't hurt anyone. He stormed back over towards the bar and shot a single glare at Faith, who had been sat on a stool, waiting where he had left her. He looked away and continue onwards and past her.

"Where are you going?" she called after his back.

"Motel," was his only, curt reply.

"Alrighty then." And she hopped off her bar stool and followed him.

Buffy pushed her way desperately through the crowd, stumbling as her eyesight blurred.

Dammit! She would not cry over this! Dean wasn't hers, and he never had been. Getting upset was stupid, and pointless, and unfair to Dean, Faith and herself. She was acting like a bratty teenager, and she needed to quit it right now. That, and drink an unhealthy amount of alcohol.

Blinking away unshed tears, she glanced down at her feet and her too high boots to make sure she didn't trip over someone's foot while walking. And not watching where she was going, she squeaked in surprise when she walked headfirst into a hard, flat chest.

"Oh crap! I'm sorry!" she cried, as a pair of large hands curled around her upper arms to steady her.

"Buffy? Are you okay?"

Startled, she looked up. It was Sam. Sam was the one she had walked into. At least some things weren't so bad. Nodding, she answered, "Yeah, I'm fine. Peachy. Just wasn't paying attention to where I was going.

He looked skeptical. "Are you sure you're okay? You look upset."

"I always get emotional around holiday time," she lied. She opted for a quick subject change to stop any further interrogations. "What about you? I thought you were getting drinks?"

"I was. I had to go to the bathroom. Dean's waiting on the drinks by the bar. I was just on my way back to him."

A rotund man with a large, whiskery beard sidled up to Buffy and nudged her shoulder. "Look," he spoke, his voice gruff as he pointed up at the ceiling. "Mistletoe. Gonna give me a kiss, little lady?" He smiled toothily and puckered up his lips.

Buffy's eyes widened and she cringed in distaste, until Sam nudged her back a little until they were the ones stood under the mistletoe.

"Actually," he announced with a smile. "I think that kiss belongs to me."

The whiskery bearded man let out a good natured chuckle at Sam's craftiness and nodded in defeat before moving on his way.

Buffy, now smiling in amusement and at how easily the situation had been dealt with, turned to thank Sam for saving her.

He tapped his cheek playfully. "I meant what I said. Kiss belongs to me."

Her heart feeling lighter the longer she spent with Sam, Buffy let out a little giggle and placed her hands on his shoulders, leaning up on her tiptoes to place a well deserved kiss on his cheek. But a short second before her lips found contact, an especially buoyant singer threw out his arms in joy. His movement jostled Sam and caused him to stumble just a little, and instead of catching his cheek, Buffy instead found herself kissing Sam's lips.

They were both completely still for several long seconds, each aware of how awkward the situation had become, and neither quite sure about what to do with it.

And then Sam closed his eyes and moaned a little and deepened the kiss, placing one hand on her back and pulling her closer to him and threading the other hand through her hair.

And Buffy, seeing no reason not to, followed suit. She wrapped her arms around his neck and stood as high as she could, trying to get closer to him. When she felt his tongue press against her lips, she opened her mouth and let him in.

The second his tongue touched hers, both of them pulled away abruptly and took a step back from each other. Their breathing was rapid as they looked into each others eyes, each aware that what they did now had the possibility to change their relationship forever.

And then Sam broke out into a wide grin, quickly followed by Buffy as she burst into an infectious set of giggles.

"That was weird," Sam declared, chuckling at how quickly the tension had left the situation.

"It totally was," she agreed. "Like kissing my brother."

Sam cringed. "Yeah, let's not do that again."

"Definitely not."

They shook their heads and laughed again, before Buffy stepped forwards and pulled Sam into an almost bone crushing hug. "Thank you."

"What for?"

"I was in a totally crappy mood just a minute ago and you've cheered me right up."

He ruffled her hair and kissed the top of her head. "Well then, thank you too."

"Why?"

He looked down at her with a sweet smile. "Because that didn't make me feel guilty at all." After a moment, he looked away from Buffy and glanced over at the bar, his happy smile turning into an annoyed frown. "Where did Dean go? He was supposed to be waiting on the drinks."

Buffy's eyes followed in the direction his were glaring in. He was right, of course. The bar was completely devoid of any signs of Dean. And Faith. And she couldn't see them anywhere else in the room, either. She felt as if she had just been kicked in the stomach with very big boots. "He and Faith must have left already," she replied.

"Together?" Sam was puzzled. He'd thought that Dean's thing with Faith had fizzled out months ago. "Are you sure?"

"I saw them before. They looked pretty...cozy."

Sam stopped looking for his brother and glanced down at Buffy's face. Her voice had been quiet when she answered, and he remembered that she had looked upset just minutes ago. Wisely, he decided that a serious subject change was in order. "Hey, I just had an awesome idea."

"And what would that be, Mr Winchester?"

"I say we go get them drinks, head back to Andrew and Dawn and spend the rest of this Christmas getting really, really drunk."

Buffy grinned. "Now you're talking my language, Sammy, now you're talking my language."


	19. Chapter 19

Home

Disclaimer – Don't own anything you might recognize. They all belong to their respective owners.

AN – This chapter is based on the Supernatural episode Home, and there are one or two lines taken directly from it. I'd also like to take a moment to thank everyone reading and reviewing this story, even though it's been taking me a while to get my updates out recently :s They should be quicker from now on.

Home

"So how's the memory doing?" a distracted Faith asked as she and Buffy searched through a dusty attic in an old, abandoned house.

Buffy bent over to sift through a box of junk, dipping her head so that her hair fell in a curtain across her face, successfully covering up her expression as she answered, "Same as before."

Faith shook her head sympathetically. "That sucks, man. I can't believe you don't remember anything from New Years Eve. If you're gonna go through an experience as hellish as that then you'd at least want to remember it." She stood up straight and pondered her words for a moment. "Actually, thinking about it, my logic might be flawed."

"I guess I must have banged my head pretty hard on the wall when the explosion went off," Buffy reasoned. "I don't even remember being in the warehouse, and the rest of the day is hazy too."

"I still say it sucks. Losing a part of your memory like that is like losing a little part of yourself. Oh hey, look at this!"

Buffy sighed in relief as Faith's attention was drawn away to something she deemed interesting she'd found in one of the boxes. She had never before been more grateful for her friend's short attention span. Because Faith knew her too well, and if she pursued the matter – and her questions – then she'd realize pretty much straight away that Buffy was lying about her memory loss, and then she'd want to know why her best friend was lying to her, and Buffy couldn't exactly explain that the reason she was pretending to have lost all memory of that night was so that she wouldn't have to deal with the things that Dean had said to her. The sweet, beautiful things that she never would have imagined coming from a man like him, and she especially never would have imagined that he would have aimed them at her. So yeah, she was trying to avoid dealing with them. Even if she had spent the past week thinking of nothing else. And so what if she had realized that maybe she was the unchallenged champion in the arena of avoidance, but who said she didn't like it that way? Huh? Or so maybe she didn't, but that wasn't entirely her fault. Because before she had even worked up half of the courage needed to talk to Dean himself about everything, he was claiming that he had forgotten the events of that night also. She kind of suspected that he might be faking it too.

Buffy was brought out of her manic musings when Faith dropped the piece of junk she had been studying back in its box and declared it useless. She huffed and stood up straight, wiping her dirty hands on her jeans. "This place is an obvious bust," she lamented, pouting slightly. "It's about as haunted as my left boob."

Wiping her own hands and wincing at the dirt stuck underneath her fingernails, Buffy nodded in agreement. "Stupid frikkin' kids. I almost feel like hunting them down and smacking their asses for wasting our time here."

"Know what you mean, sister. but we'll just have to settle for ragging on Sam and Dean for believing that dumber than a cheerleader ghost story in the first place. That should give us at least three or four hours of fun."

"Sounds like a plan I could learn to live with. Let's go find the guys and get the hell out of this dump."

As they were walking out of the room, Buffy nudged Faith hard enough to cause the other girl to stumble. After righting herself, Faith looked at her questioningly.

"I was a cheerleader, they're not all dumb."

Faith just snorted in response.

Much later on that evening, Buffy and Dean were walking side by side through the local graveyard in the town they were staying at, their eyes desperately seeking out something to slay so that the silence that had appeared between them would be slightly less awkward. But then, that was all the two of them had had ever since New Years Eve – awkward silences.

Buffy wasn't even sure why he had come patrolling with her in the first place. She had told him that he didn't need to. Insisted on it, even. It was a small town, and there hadn't even been the barest hint of the supernatural in the entire time they'd been there, no ghosts, no vampires, no nothing. Hell, Buffy and Faith were the closest things to demons this town had ever seen – not that she had mentioned that to him. But still he'd just shrugged his shoulders and came along anyway, just like he had on every single other night since New Years Eve too, or, as Buffy was thinking of it, 'the night that nothing had happened'.

If only she knew that the reason he accompanied her on patrol every night – the only reason – was because in his own warped way, it was Dean's idea of spending time with her.

Because he remembered it. Of course he remembered it. All of it. He remembered hurting all over and being a little dazed from a bump to the head he had discovered later on and saying things to Buffy that he probably shouldn't have said. It would have been easy to blame it on concussion, he supposed, talked to her and told her that he didn't mean it and asked her to forget all about it. But that would have been a lie, and lying to Buffy kind of made his tummy hurt. So instead he had gone with the slightly less worse option of pretending that he couldn't remember anything from that night. It was still a lie, and his tummy still hurt, but somehow it just felt better than telling her it had meant nothing at all.

Perhaps either lie wouldn't have been required had he not been such a chicken and just talked to her, told her he remembered it all and that he meant every word he'd said, but she'd claimed that her own memory was a bit nonexistent and in no way was he going to repeat any soppy movie moments twice.

Hey, he'd never denied being emotionally stunted.

So, things were as they were. Awkward. Stilted. Silent. Because if things weren't silent then they'd be talking to each other, and talking to each other couldn't be good when the only things they wanted to say were about a subject that had been unofficially tabooed, what with Faith and all. And also maybe if they did talk, then this weird, messed up relationship they had might actually begin to make sense.

And who would want something as crazy as that?

Yeah.

And so he followed her, every night he followed her. And she let him, which made him warm all over. And when he followed her there was silence, but he did it anyway, because it was a hell of a lot better than nothing at all. Although if he was completely honest, he'd rather be fighting with her. He kind of missed fighting with her.

Harsh images flashed through an unconscious Buffy's mind, causing her closed eyes to twitch and her body to flinch as she slept.

And then the nightmare that had been plaguing her was over, and she awoke with a start. She blinked, shaking her head to dispel of the sound of her heart beating loudly in her ears. But as she recalled the dream she had been having, the noise just seemed to grow harshly as the pace of her heart quickened.

No, wait. Not just a dream...a slayer dream.

Finally she – and her heart – began to calm, and with a sigh she rolled over and sat up, sparing a quick glance to the clock on her bedside table.

2:38am.

Rubbing at her tired eyes, she sneaked a peek over at the bed next to hers. Faith was still fast asleep, snoring lightly underneath her tangled bedsheets. If anything was enough to relax Buffy after what she had just witnessed, the normalcy of Faith near her was.

She closed her eyes and instantly reopened them again when flashes of the dream flickered in front of her closed eyelids. Oh God, it was so...so...there was no way she could return to sleep now. Honestly, she wasn't even sure if she wanted to. Not if images so painful were going to trouble her dreams all night long.

Silently, so as not to wake light sleeper Faith, she pushed herself out of bed and padded gently over towards the bathroom they were sharing with the guys.

When she opened the door, however, she was surprised to find it already occupied by Sam.

"Oh...sorry," she whispered with an apologetic wince, moving to close to the door again.

He didn't even seem to notice she had entered, let alone hear what she'd said, and before the door had completely closed, she stopped for a moment to watch him.

He was stood as still as stone in front of the mirror, gripping at the sides of the sink with white knuckled hands and staring into his reflection as if searching for answers he couldn't seem to find. He looked troubled, pained, hopeless.

"Sam...Sammy?"

This time, the sound of her hesitant voice seemed to break through his daze, and he started, letting go of the sink and spinning around to face her, shaking his hands to restore the flow of blood. "Buffy...how long have you been there?"

She released her hold on the door and moved further into the bathroom. "Only a minute. Are you okay? You looked kinda spacey over there."

Sam opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, shaking his head slightly. "I uhm...I..." Something flickered across his face, and he looked as if he was going through some kind of internal conflict. Buffy wondered what exactly was going through his mind. "It's nothing," he settled on eventually. "Just had a bad dream. I'll be fine, it just shook me up."

Buffy nodded, and when he mumbled something about getting back to sleep she let him go without a word. Once she was alone, she sighed heavily, moving over to the sink and mimicking his position in front of the mirror. Sam's words echoed through her mind, setting all of her thoughts since waking up into stone.

'Just had a bad dream.'

She tilted her head back and closed her eyes. "Yeah, that's what I thought," she murmured sadly.

Buffy had kept quiet.

Buffy had kept quiet all morning through a breakfast of coffee and donuts as Dean and Faith had scoured the internet and searched the papers, looking for potential jobs.

Buffy had kept quiet as Sam had shut himself off from everybody else, ignoring all other conversations in favor of sketching furiously inside his notebook, drawing page after page of the same tree and realizing finally that the 'bad dream' that had shook him up so terribly the night before wasn't a bad dream after all but in fact a psychic vision, a psychic vision about the house he and Dean had lived in as children, and that the people living there now were in grave danger.

Buffy had kept quiet when Sam had finally come clean to Dean about what he had told her when they had first met, about how sometimes when he had bad dreams, they came true.

Buffy had even kept quiet when after arguing the issue, Dean had finally agreed with Sam that they should go to Kansas to check out their old house for any signs of something suspicious, though he had looked like a broken man at the time. She had wanted nothing more than to take him into her arms and soothe away his pain.

But when Dean turned to her and Faith and curtly told them to pack up their crap because they'd be leaving in an hour, Buffy could no longer keep quiet.

"Faith and I aren't going," she said quietly.

Faith, who had been in the process of standing up and doing exactly what Dean had told them to do, paused and looked over at Buffy in confusion.

Dean was equally as shocked. "What?" he burst out.

Sam didn't say a word, but he observed the situation with careful eyes.

"Faith and I aren't going," Buffy repeated, calmly and firmly. "You guys...you need to do this one alone."

Dean stared at her in disbelief for a long minute, and Buffy stared at him right back, making sure she didn't waver in the slightest.

The longer he looked at her, the more he realized that this wasn't her sick idea of a joke, and that she was seriously actually telling him that she wasn't going with him. His expression went from disbelief to hurt to furious in a matter of seconds, and Buffy found that she could no longer bear to look him in the eyes.

"Oh right," he snapped. "Our little family problem getting too heavy for you, is it?"

Buffy flinched at the venom in his voice. "Dean, it's not like that-"

"No, of course not. I bet your just pretty bummed that your little holiday has been spoiled by our hunt for the thing that destroyed our family, right? Your fun trip away from home has gotten a little too serious for you so you're dropping out?" He wasn't sure what he was pissed about more – the fact that he knew for certain that she was too stubborn and was a hundred percent not going to change her mind, or how annoyingly calm she was being about the whole thing. Even now, when he was throwing words her way that he knew would hurt her, she didn't get angry or upset or even perturbed. She really didn't care at all. He threw his hands up in the air and turned away from her. "You know what, Summers, you are not who I thought you were. Not at all. Youknow how messed up this is, how hard this is gonna be for Sam and me. Don't you even care a little bit? After everything we did for you in Cleveland, can't you just be there for us this once? Or do you just not wanna get caught in the crossfire?"

Buffy was glad that his back was turned, and that he couldn't see how badly his harsh words were affecting her. Working hard to keep her voice even, she replied, "If that's really how you think of me, then I guess you aren't who I thought you were either. But you should know you're wrong. I've given you my reason for why Faith and I can't come with you, and if you can't accept it...well then I guess we've really got nothing else to say to one another."

Dean ignored most of what Buffy had said, focusing only on the part that angered him the most. "I'm wrong?I'm wrong? You're kidding me, right? I'm not the one who's taken a whole minute and a half to decide to skip out on a case that might be a little bit emotionally draining!"

She could easily have told him that in actuality, she'd had the whole night to spend thinking it over, that she'd agonized over what the right thing to do was for hours. That she was already emotionally drained by the whole thing. But then if she told him that then it would almost definitely lead to other questions. Other questions like how she already knew what was going to happen, and what would they find once they reached Kansas, and what exactly was it that was haunting their old house. And like she'd said, that was something Sam and Dean had to discover for themselves. So instead, she just sighed lightly and said, "You'll understand once you get there, I promise."

Dean snorted in response, and Buffy knew immediately that the conversation was over. "Whatever," he scoffed. "You don't wanna be there for us, fine! See if we care. Just don't expect us to come back for you when the case is finished."

Buffy said nothing else. There was nothing else to say. The things Dean had said to her...they cut her right down to the bone. But she knew how hard this was for him. How hard it was to go back that place, how hard it was to stick his vulnerabilities out there to her to see, only to have her throw them back in his face. Because that's exactly how he'd see it, even if that wasn't the case. So even though in any other situation she'd be kicking his ass so hard that he'd have difficulties sitting down for at least the next year, this time she let it go.

With a huff, Dean stormed through the room, gathering up his belongings in a messy pile and shoving them into his duffel without a thought. He was packed up in record time, and apart from a harsh, 'Hurry your goddamned ass up,' to Sam, he said nothing else as he slammed his way out of the motel room.

Sam finished packing up his stuff and looked over at Buffy apologetically. He leaned down towards her and kissed her on the forehead, before pulling away and looking into her eyes for a long moment. It was in that moment that Buffy realized with great relief that he understood that there was more to her actions than what she was saying, and that he knew that she wasn't doing this for selfish reasons.

"Thank you," she whispered softly.

He nodded and gave her a small smile. "I'll see you," was all he said before he too disappeared out of the room.

And then it was just Faith and Buffy, left in a motel room that suddenly seemed far too big. They sat in silence for a long time, listening hard as they heard the sound of the Impala's engine roaring as it drove away from the motel...and them.

Faith turned to watch Buffy, who was staring at a plain patch of wall as if had suddenly become the most fascinating thing she had ever seen. Dean's words had hurt Buffy, Faith could tell. She knew Buffy better than she knew anybody else in the whole wide world and she could see the slight shine to her eyes and the little line between her eyebrows as if they were glaring, flashing lights.

As she had watched the confrontation, Faith had been waiting for Buffy to blow up. Because Dean had beenway out of order, even if Faith didn't quite understand what Buffy's motivations were herself. But not once had Buffy lost her temper.

Faith trusted Buffy. They had a history, which was equal parts bad and equal parts good, but Faith trusted her. And she trusted Buffy's judgment. Which is why she had kept silent during the argument and why she had accepted Buffy's decision about them not accompanying the guys without a word.

She had let Sam and Dean walk out of their lives – possibly for good – because she trusted Buffy more than anyone she had ever trusted before.

But she wasn't someone who liked to be kept in the dark.

"So," she said brightly. "Now that the over dramatic twosome have left the building, do you wanna give me the real reason we're not in the car with them right now?

Buffy closed her eyes for a second, gathering her thoughts before she opened them again and looked over at Faith. "I had a dream..."

KANSAS

He'd tried not to be weak, he really had. He'd tried to be tough and unemotional about the whole thing, but it just wasn't working out the way he'd planned. Being back here, in his old town, his old house...it made him feel like a little boy again. And like a little boy, all he wanted was his dad.

And so he'd been weak, and he'd dialed his father's number, and just like every time he called, there was that small, faint hope that this time, his dad would pick up. And then there was the ritual disappointment when it went straight to answerphone.

Usually he kept his messages short and simple – a quick note here and there to tell his dad where he and Sam were at, what jobs they'd taken on, a quick request that he call him as soon as he could. But this time it was different. This time he lost his cool.

"Please, dad. Just...call me or message me or something. I...I need your help," he begged into the phone through a voice choked up and hoarse. He blinked hard and looked up, trying to force away the tears that he would never allow to fall.

He wanted to believe in his father, he really did. But even now he knew that leaving this message was a worthless effort. Did John even get any of the messages that Dean left him? And if he did, did he even care?

There was so much more he wanted to say, so many questions he wanted to ask, so many accusations he wanted to hurl. But instead, he flipped his phone closed and shook his head, mentally scolding himself for his momentary disloyalty. Of course his father cared. He was just trying to keep them safe, that was all. Trying to protect him and Sam from whatever he was up against. And if he stopped believing that, he would surely go mad.

Goddammit, there was only one other thing in the whole world he wanted right now. Only one other voice he wanted to hear.

Before his brain even had time to register what the rest of his body was doing, his fingers had already dialed Buffy's number and had brought the phone up to his ear.

She answered before the first ring even had chance to come to an end. "Hello?"

Dean blinked in sudden realization. What the hell was he doing? Buffy didn't want him calling her and bothering her with his stupid problems. She'd made it perfectly clear that she didn't really care about him or his feelings when she had refused to accompany he and Sam to Kansas in the first place. Fucking bitch.

"Dean? Is that you? Your number came up-"

Once again, he flipped the phone shut.

Missouri Moseley. A psychic. If he hadn't of seen her name written in his father's journal, he would have dismissed the idea without a second thought. But John had written about her, and John was never wrong. And so Dean and Sam went to see her, even if Dean was still secretly a little skeptic. Okay, a lot skeptic.

But she had known. Just like that, she had known.

She had known about Sam's girlfriend and about their father going missing, and any doubts he'd had regarding psychics vanished within the first couple of minutes of meeting her. And now he wanted answers.

"Do you know where he is? Is he okay? Does he need help?" he asked her a little frantically, desperate for any light she could shed on their father.

Missouri let out a small, sad sigh. "I just don't know."

"You don't know?" Maybe his first assumptions regarding psychics had been correct after all. "I thought you were psychic? This is what you do, right? You know stuff!"

"Boy, do you see me sawing some skinny tramp in half?" she asked furiously, turning her ferocious gaze on him. He gulped audibly. "You think I'm some kinda magician? I may be able to read thoughts and sense energies in a room but I can't just pull facts out of thin air!" She huffed in indignation and then gestured towards the sofa and said in the same, annoyed voice, "Sit. Please."

Ignoring his brother's amused chuckles, Dean hurried forward to do exactly as the scary lady had told him to do, but was stopped when Missouri moved in front of him once more and held up a hand to stop him in his tracks.

"And by the by," she added, lifting up her arm and slapping him on the head – surprisingly hard considering how dainty her hand was. "You are a donkey's ass, Dean Winchester!"

"Hey!" he protested, rubbing his now sore head and pouting just like the child she made him feel he was again. "Ow! What was that for?"

She poked a stern and pointy looking finger in his direction. "That girl you're thinking about, she only wants what's best for you, young man. And you know it so stop treating her so bad or I'm gonna have to smack you on the behind."

Dean's eyes widened at her words. "Uh...what girl? I'm not thinking about a girl. There's no girl." He wished his voice wasn't coming out so rushed or high pitched, and he made a point of avoiding eye contact with Sam at all costs.

Missouri tutted and waved a dismissive hand as she moved towards an armchair to sit down. "Don't think you can lie to me. That girl's in every one of your thoughts, even if you don't always want her there."

Sam's chuckles had died down, and as he often seemed to be doing lately, he found himself watching his brother curiously. Wait! Was he...blushing? Sam wondered exactly who it was Missouri was talking about. Faith?...Buffy? He was pretty sure he knew.

Following Missouri's example, the two boys sat down on the sofa opposite her, both more than ready to get down to business.

"Boy, you put your foot on my coffee table, I'm gonna whack you with a spoon!"

Dean waited impatiently by the Impala for Sam to finish talking to Missouri. He knew what they were talking about – he wasn't completely ignorant. They were discussing Sam's freaky new abilities. Sam was scared, and Dean wouldn't lie...so was he. It wasn't normal. It wasn't...human. Maybe that was unfair, he didn't know. He didn't know about any of this. It was kind of new territory. Should he talk to Sam about it? Should he avoid it? Should he call his dad and let him know in a message?

He shook his head. Such thoughts could be kept for later. Much later when he wasn't still physically andemotionally tired. Fighting the poltergeist and seeing his mother's spirit had left him...drained.

"Sam, you ready to go?" he called out finally, fed up of being left alone with his own confusing thoughts.

Sam looked up from his conversation and nodded, climbing to his feet and holding out his hand to help up Missouri.

"Now don't you boys be strangers," she said as she ambled over to the car after Sam, giving each of them a long, pointed look.

"We won't," Dean promised.

She glanced over at him, watching his face searchingly with one perfectly arched brow raised. "Well? What are you lingering around here for? You better hurry on back to your girls, otherwise Buffy might just not be there when you return."

Dean froze still for a long moment. His whole body felt as if it had just been dunked into a tub of ice cold water, and a dark feeling of dread was spreading throughout his entire being, beginning right at the very center of his heart. When he finally snapped out of it, his expression was stony. "Sam, get in the car. Now."

Sam looked at his brother in surprise, a little fearful of the manic look in his eyes. He said a quick goodbye to Missouri and did exactly as he was told. He'd barely had time to put on his seat-belt before Dean had the car moving, speeding away from Missouri and their old house and leaving a large cloud of dust in his wake.

Missouri walked back into her house, a severely unamused look marring her usually jolly features. "John Winchester, I could just slap you silly, I really could!" she said with an angry sniff. "Why don't you just talk to your children already? At least leave them some kind of message, let them know you're okay."

John shook his head pitifully and peeked up at her through the hands covering his face. "God, you have no idea how much I want to. I wanna see them so damned much. But I can't. Not yet. Not until I know the truth."

Moving forwards to sit opposite him, she heaved out a loud, dramatic sigh. "Well, I think you're a fool."

He didn't show any signs of disagreeing with her. "But they're okay?" he asked, after a long and lengthy pause.

"As okay as they can be without a father around to watch their backs." Her face softened a smidgeon. "They grew up nice, John. Real nice. You did well."

"And Dean's finally gone and fallen for a young girl?"

"Fallen hard, I should tell you."

He chuckled, warmed by this news. "Never thought I'd see the day. And a slayer, at that."

"Not just a slayer...the slayer."

John let out a low, appreciative whistle. "Buffy Summers. I've heard some tales about her, I can tell you. At least she'll be able to take care of herself. And keep my son in line."

"Yes, they'd make a beautiful pair...if he ever works up the courage to tell her how he really feels, that is. He's a stubborn child, that one." She looked at him meaningfully. "Just like his daddy."

Sam wanted to throw up. He sincerely wished he hadn't of insisted on stopping for food ten minutes before, because now all he wanted to do was bring it all back up. It was the careless way in which Dean was driving which was the problem, and the fact that the Impala was speeding down the road so fast that the outside surroundings were nothing more than a dark blur.

"Dean, will you just slow down for a minute? Please," he begged, gripping onto the edges of his seat like that would keep him safe.

Dean didn't even spare a glance in his direction. "Will you chill out, Sammy. We're practically there."

"I know, but you've been driving almost double the speed limit ever since we left the fast food place, not to mention Kansas. At the rate you're going we'll have crashed and died before we can get back to the motel and you'll never even get to see..." Perhaps wisely, he decided against finishing his sentence.

Dean didn't reply, didn't even give any indication that he'd heard his brother speak at all, but Sam watched in trepidation as the speed dial went up another notch.

Time for him to try again. "Will you at least talk to me?"

"Sure thing, bro. Let's talk. What do you wanna talk about, Sammy? Come on, we'll talk about anything you want, bud. Anything at all." Dean's sentences were coming out far too fast and manic, and he still hadn't taken his eyes off the road for a single second. Normally Sam would be the first to encourage safe driving, but he wished his brother would look at him, just once. He was seriously starting to worry about the state of Dean's mental health.

"Okay, let's start with the fact that a couple of days ago you told Buffy that you wouldn't be coming back for her and Faith and now that Missouri has told you she might not be there you're acting like a crazy person and breaking about thirty three laws to speed your butt back to her." He was treading on dangerous grounds here, he knew that. But he had to know. He'd kept silent on the issue for a real long time – longer than any normal person could have hope to achieve – and now he was ready for some answers.

Dean's jaw tightened. "Next question."

"Fine. Was Missouri talking about Buffy when she said that there was a girl always on your-"

"Question time over. I don't think I wanna talk any more."

Sam sighed in frustration. "Dean, I really think we need to talk about this."

"About what?"

"You know what! About Buf-"

"Shut your cake hole, Sam! We're not talking about this! Conversation over, okay?" It was really more of a statement than a question, and there was such a fierce anger in Dean's eyes that for once, Sam didn't dare to try and argue.

Instead, he sat back in his seat, determined in his own mind that this would definitely be a topic he would notbe dropping.

It wasn't much long later that they finally drove into town, and Sam noted with relief that Dean actually slowed the car down. Perhaps he realized that getting pulled over by the cops probably wouldn't get him back to the motel any faster.

About five minutes away from said motel, Dean spied a small, blonde woman strolling down the street, and with a happy jolt through his entire body, he recognized her as Buffy.

"Holy crap!" Sam yelped as Dean haphazardly yanked the steering wheel over so that he could park up next to her, causing his younger brother to fly into his window, despite the use of his seat-belt.

Ignoring Sam's uncharacteristic curses, Dean jumped out of the car as soon as it had stopped and ran to where a surprised Buffy was now standing.

"Dean!" she cried. "What the hell was that? You could've crashed! You could've gotten killed! Do you know how dangerous that was?"

He had no answer to her rambles, and he really didn't think she expected one either. But for a long moment, he stood directly in front of her and stared, taking in every inch of her with greedy, devouring eyes. More than anything in the world did he want to pull her into his arms and never let her go, feel her body against his, smell her Buffy smell, touch her soft skin.

But he couldn't, because he was too freakin' chicken.

So instead of all the things he wanted to do, he settled for lifting up a shaking hand and resting it on her shoulder. He squeezed so tightly that if she had been anyone but the slayer, it probably would have cracked.

"You didn't leave," he said finally, his voice hoarse with emotion.

Buffy looked confused at his observation. "Why would I leave? Just 'cause you can be a big chump sometimes doesn't mean I'm gonna bail on you."

Dean grinned at her admission. In fact, he grinned so wide that he thought his mouth was going to split right open there and then but honestly, he didn't even care. Because he was finally here. And so was she. And if that didn't make him the happiest man alive, then it certainly made him the most relieved.

And then he got it. Missouri had played him, good and proper.

'You think I'm a magician? I may be able to read thoughts and sense energies in a room but I can't just pull facts out of thin air.'

Those were her words, her exact words. She couldn't have known that Buffy was going to leave, not unless she had been reading her mind. And Buffy had been much too far away for that, if what Missouri had told him was true.

No, Missouri had been playing on Dean's own insecurities. She'd known that he was worried that Buffy might have upped and left for home while he was away and she had used it against him to make him realize what a giant ass he had been.

And he had. He knew now why Buffy had chosen not to accompany them to Kansas. She must have known about his mom. She was right when she'd said that this mission was something he and Sam had to do by themselves.

He opened his mouth to apologize, but Buffy stopped him midway by holding up her hand. "No need," she said knowingly, her eyes soft and kind.

Dean smiled again, and let his own hand drop down to his side. He looked down to the ground, uncharacteristically shy for the first time in...ever. "Do you uh...do you want a ride back to the motel? We're headed that way."

"Nah," replied Buffy, shaking her head. "I was just on my way to the diner to grab something to eat. Faith and I have been living on sugary snacks for the past couple of days without Sam here to encourage us to eat properly. I need some real food before I turn into a big, gooey pile of sugary mess."

Without looking away from Buffy for a single second, Dean shouted his brother's name.

Sam, who had climbed out of the car minutes before so that he could watch their interaction, waved a hand in greeting. "Hey Buffy."

"Hey Sammy." Her eyes only strayed away from Dean's for one short moment.

"Catch," Dean called, throwing the keys to the Impala in Sam's direction. "Do me a favor and take her back to the motel, would ya?"

Sam looked down at the keys in his hand and back at his brother in confusion. "You want me to drive your car?"

"Sure."

"And you're not coming?"

"No. I'm gonna go grab something to eat with Buffy."

"But we only just ate. Even you can't be hungry agai-"

"Stop your whining you little bitch. Just take the damn car back already."

Holding up his hands in defeat, Sam did exactly as he was told and climbed back into the car, muttering obscenities about his cranky brother as he did so. Dean and Buffy didn't say another words until the sound of the Impala's engine had completely disappeared.

"So, you're eating with me then?" Buffy questioned finally, an amused looking smirk set firmly on her face.

"You know me, I can never say no to a cheeseburger." He smiled cheekily. "Especially if you're buying."

As he and Buffy stood outside of the all night diner, Dean couldn't help grimacing at the neon pink decorations through the window. "Delicious," he mumbled sarcastically.

Buffy rolled her eyes at his tone of voice and grabbed a hold of his arm to pull him inside. "Don't be such a baby. We'll get the food to go."

"You're such a freak," Dean observed, watching Buffy in amusement as they strolled slowly back in the direction of the motel.

Buffy glanced up from her food. "Why?"

He looked down at her ketchup covered donuts pointedly. "I don't think that counts as proper food."

"Slayer appetite," Buffy reasoned with a shrug. "Besides, I had a salad first."

It wasn't long later that they reached the motel, and as they walked down the platform towards their adjoining rooms, there was a definite hesitance within both of their steps.

"We should go inside," Dean voiced once they reached their destination, though his tone of voice said otherwise.

Buffy nodded, and the two stood in silence for a long moment, neither making any movements towards the door of the motel room.

Eventually, Dean let out a little puff of air, turning around and sitting on the low steps of the platform. At Buffy's questioning look, he shrugged and explained, "Don't feel like going in just yet."

Letting out a little smile, Buffy nodded and sat down next to him.

They sat together in silence for a long while, each lost in their own thoughts as they gazed up at the almost full moon.

"Did you know?" Dean asked eventually. He was pretty sure he knew the answer to that question, but he needed to be sure. "Did you know what was going to happen? With my mom? Did you know she'd be there?"

Buffy dropped her head to stare down at her boots. "Yes," she replied simply. "I had a dream. A...slayer dream, you know? I'm sorry I couldn't tell you. I just thought that if Faith and I were there...it was just something you an Sam had to figure out by yourselves."

Dean nodded. "I know." He paused for a moment, considering his next words. For a moment, he contemplated not saying them at all. But Buffy had been honest with him, and he owed her just as much. "Sometimes I think you know me better than anybody in the whole world. Better than Sam. Better than my dad. Better than myself, even."

Buffy looked at him, surprise evident in her eyes at his admission. She didn't know how to respond, how to tell him how good his words made her feel inside. Nothing she could say could match the depth of his words, so in the end, she settled for saying nothing at all.

They stayed there, in that very same position, right up until night began to fade and the sky began to lighten. And both of them were happy.


	20. Chapter 20

Home

Disclaimer – Don't own anything you might recognize. They all belong to their respective owners.

AN – This chapter is based on the Supernatural episode Home, and there are one or two lines taken directly from it. I'd also like to take a moment to thank everyone reading and reviewing this story, even though it's been taking me a while to get my updates out recently :s They should be quicker from now on.

Home

"So how's the memory doing?" a distracted Faith asked as she and Buffy searched through a dusty attic in an old, abandoned house.

Buffy bent over to sift through a box of junk, dipping her head so that her hair fell in a curtain across her face, successfully covering up her expression as she answered, "Same as before."

Faith shook her head sympathetically. "That sucks, man. I can't believe you don't remember anything from New Years Eve. If you're gonna go through an experience as hellish as that then you'd at least want to remember it." She stood up straight and pondered her words for a moment. "Actually, thinking about it, my logic might be flawed."

"I guess I must have banged my head pretty hard on the wall when the explosion went off," Buffy reasoned. "I don't even remember being in the warehouse, and the rest of the day is hazy too."

"I still say it sucks. Losing a part of your memory like that is like losing a little part of yourself. Oh hey, look at this!"

Buffy sighed in relief as Faith's attention was drawn away to something she deemed interesting she'd found in one of the boxes. She had never before been more grateful for her friend's short attention span. Because Faith knew her too well, and if she pursued the matter – and her questions – then she'd realize pretty much straight away that Buffy was lying about her memory loss, and then she'd want to know why her best friend was lying to her, and Buffy couldn't exactly explain that the reason she was pretending to have lost all memory of that night was so that she wouldn't have to deal with the things that Dean had said to her. The sweet, beautiful things that she never would have imagined coming from a man like him, and she especially never would have imagined that he would have aimed them at her. So yeah, she was trying to avoid dealing with them. Even if she had spent the past week thinking of nothing else. And so what if she had realized that maybe she was the unchallenged champion in the arena of avoidance, but who said she didn't like it that way? Huh? Or so maybe she didn't, but that wasn't entirely her fault. Because before she had even worked up half of the courage needed to talk to Dean himself about everything, he was claiming that he had forgotten the events of that night also. She kind of suspected that he might be faking it too.

Buffy was brought out of her manic musings when Faith dropped the piece of junk she had been studying back in its box and declared it useless. She huffed and stood up straight, wiping her dirty hands on her jeans. "This place is an obvious bust," she lamented, pouting slightly. "It's about as haunted as my left boob."

Wiping her own hands and wincing at the dirt stuck underneath her fingernails, Buffy nodded in agreement. "Stupid frikkin' kids. I almost feel like hunting them down and smacking their asses for wasting our time here."

"Know what you mean, sister. but we'll just have to settle for ragging on Sam and Dean for believing that dumber than a cheerleader ghost story in the first place. That should give us at least three or four hours of fun."

"Sounds like a plan I could learn to live with. Let's go find the guys and get the hell out of this dump."

As they were walking out of the room, Buffy nudged Faith hard enough to cause the other girl to stumble. After righting herself, Faith looked at her questioningly.

"I was a cheerleader, they're not all dumb."

Faith just snorted in response.

Much later on that evening, Buffy and Dean were walking side by side through the local graveyard in the town they were staying at, their eyes desperately seeking out something to slay so that the silence that had appeared between them would be slightly less awkward. But then, that was all the two of them had had ever since New Years Eve – awkward silences.

Buffy wasn't even sure why he had come patrolling with her in the first place. She had told him that he didn't need to. Insisted on it, even. It was a small town, and there hadn't even been the barest hint of the supernatural in the entire time they'd been there, no ghosts, no vampires, no nothing. Hell, Buffy and Faith were the closest things to demons this town had ever seen – not that she had mentioned that to him. But still he'd just shrugged his shoulders and came along anyway, just like he had on every single other night since New Years Eve too, or, as Buffy was thinking of it, 'the night that nothing had happened'.

If only she knew that the reason he accompanied her on patrol every night – the only reason – was because in his own warped way, it was Dean's idea of spending time with her.

Because he remembered it. Of course he remembered it. All of it. He remembered hurting all over and being a little dazed from a bump to the head he had discovered later on and saying things to Buffy that he probably shouldn't have said. It would have been easy to blame it on concussion, he supposed, talked to her and told her that he didn't mean it and asked her to forget all about it. But that would have been a lie, and lying to Buffy kind of made his tummy hurt. So instead he had gone with the slightly less worse option of pretending that he couldn't remember anything from that night. It was still a lie, and his tummy still hurt, but somehow it just felt better than telling her it had meant nothing at all.

Perhaps either lie wouldn't have been required had he not been such a chicken and just talked to her, told her he remembered it all and that he meant every word he'd said, but she'd claimed that her own memory was a bit nonexistent and in no way was he going to repeat any soppy movie moments twice.

Hey, he'd never denied being emotionally stunted.

So, things were as they were. Awkward. Stilted. Silent. Because if things weren't silent then they'd be talking to each other, and talking to each other couldn't be good when the only things they wanted to say were about a subject that had been unofficially tabooed, what with Faith and all. And also maybe if they did talk, then this weird, messed up relationship they had might actually begin to make sense.

And who would want something as crazy as that?

Yeah.

And so he followed her, every night he followed her. And she let him, which made him warm all over. And when he followed her there was silence, but he did it anyway, because it was a hell of a lot better than nothing at all. Although if he was completely honest, he'd rather be fighting with her. He kind of missed fighting with her.

Harsh images flashed through an unconscious Buffy's mind, causing her closed eyes to twitch and her body to flinch as she slept.

And then the nightmare that had been plaguing her was over, and she awoke with a start. She blinked, shaking her head to dispel of the sound of her heart beating loudly in her ears. But as she recalled the dream she had been having, the noise just seemed to grow harshly as the pace of her heart quickened.

No, wait. Not just a dream...a slayer dream.

Finally she – and her heart – began to calm, and with a sigh she rolled over and sat up, sparing a quick glance to the clock on her bedside table.

2:38am.

Rubbing at her tired eyes, she sneaked a peek over at the bed next to hers. Faith was still fast asleep, snoring lightly underneath her tangled bedsheets. If anything was enough to relax Buffy after what she had just witnessed, the normalcy of Faith near her was.

She closed her eyes and instantly reopened them again when flashes of the dream flickered in front of her closed eyelids. Oh God, it was so...so...there was no way she could return to sleep now. Honestly, she wasn't even sure if she wanted to. Not if images so painful were going to trouble her dreams all night long.

Silently, so as not to wake light sleeper Faith, she pushed herself out of bed and padded gently over towards the bathroom they were sharing with the guys.

When she opened the door, however, she was surprised to find it already occupied by Sam.

"Oh...sorry," she whispered with an apologetic wince, moving to close to the door again.

He didn't even seem to notice she had entered, let alone hear what she'd said, and before the door had completely closed, she stopped for a moment to watch him.

He was stood as still as stone in front of the mirror, gripping at the sides of the sink with white knuckled hands and staring into his reflection as if searching for answers he couldn't seem to find. He looked troubled, pained, hopeless.

"Sam...Sammy?"

This time, the sound of her hesitant voice seemed to break through his daze, and he started, letting go of the sink and spinning around to face her, shaking his hands to restore the flow of blood. "Buffy...how long have you been there?"

She released her hold on the door and moved further into the bathroom. "Only a minute. Are you okay? You looked kinda spacey over there."

Sam opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, shaking his head slightly. "I uhm...I..." Something flickered across his face, and he looked as if he was going through some kind of internal conflict. Buffy wondered what exactly was going through his mind. "It's nothing," he settled on eventually. "Just had a bad dream. I'll be fine, it just shook me up."

Buffy nodded, and when he mumbled something about getting back to sleep she let him go without a word. Once she was alone, she sighed heavily, moving over to the sink and mimicking his position in front of the mirror. Sam's words echoed through her mind, setting all of her thoughts since waking up into stone.

'Just had a bad dream.'

She tilted her head back and closed her eyes. "Yeah, that's what I thought," she murmured sadly.

Buffy had kept quiet.

Buffy had kept quiet all morning through a breakfast of coffee and donuts as Dean and Faith had scoured the internet and searched the papers, looking for potential jobs.

Buffy had kept quiet as Sam had shut himself off from everybody else, ignoring all other conversations in favor of sketching furiously inside his notebook, drawing page after page of the same tree and realizing finally that the 'bad dream' that had shook him up so terribly the night before wasn't a bad dream after all but in fact a psychic vision, a psychic vision about the house he and Dean had lived in as children, and that the people living there now were in grave danger.

Buffy had kept quiet when Sam had finally come clean to Dean about what he had told her when they had first met, about how sometimes when he had bad dreams, they came true.

Buffy had even kept quiet when after arguing the issue, Dean had finally agreed with Sam that they should go to Kansas to check out their old house for any signs of something suspicious, though he had looked like a broken man at the time. She had wanted nothing more than to take him into her arms and soothe away his pain.

But when Dean turned to her and Faith and curtly told them to pack up their crap because they'd be leaving in an hour, Buffy could no longer keep quiet.

"Faith and I aren't going," she said quietly.

Faith, who had been in the process of standing up and doing exactly what Dean had told them to do, paused and looked over at Buffy in confusion.

Dean was equally as shocked. "What?" he burst out.

Sam didn't say a word, but he observed the situation with careful eyes.

"Faith and I aren't going," Buffy repeated, calmly and firmly. "You guys...you need to do this one alone."

Dean stared at her in disbelief for a long minute, and Buffy stared at him right back, making sure she didn't waver in the slightest.

The longer he looked at her, the more he realized that this wasn't her sick idea of a joke, and that she was seriously actually telling him that she wasn't going with him. His expression went from disbelief to hurt to furious in a matter of seconds, and Buffy found that she could no longer bear to look him in the eyes.

"Oh right," he snapped. "Our little family problem getting too heavy for you, is it?"

Buffy flinched at the venom in his voice. "Dean, it's not like that-"

"No, of course not. I bet your just pretty bummed that your little holiday has been spoiled by our hunt for the thing that destroyed our family, right? Your fun trip away from home has gotten a little too serious for you so you're dropping out?" He wasn't sure what he was pissed about more – the fact that he knew for certain that she was too stubborn and was a hundred percent not going to change her mind, or how annoyingly calm she was being about the whole thing. Even now, when he was throwing words her way that he knew would hurt her, she didn't get angry or upset or even perturbed. She really didn't care at all. He threw his hands up in the air and turned away from her. "You know what, Summers, you are not who I thought you were. Not at all. Youknow how messed up this is, how hard this is gonna be for Sam and me. Don't you even care a little bit? After everything we did for you in Cleveland, can't you just be there for us this once? Or do you just not wanna get caught in the crossfire?"

Buffy was glad that his back was turned, and that he couldn't see how badly his harsh words were affecting her. Working hard to keep her voice even, she replied, "If that's really how you think of me, then I guess you aren't who I thought you were either. But you should know you're wrong. I've given you my reason for why Faith and I can't come with you, and if you can't accept it...well then I guess we've really got nothing else to say to one another."

Dean ignored most of what Buffy had said, focusing only on the part that angered him the most. "I'm wrong?I'm wrong? You're kidding me, right? I'm not the one who's taken a whole minute and a half to decide to skip out on a case that might be a little bit emotionally draining!"

She could easily have told him that in actuality, she'd had the whole night to spend thinking it over, that she'd agonized over what the right thing to do was for hours. That she was already emotionally drained by the whole thing. But then if she told him that then it would almost definitely lead to other questions. Other questions like how she already knew what was going to happen, and what would they find once they reached Kansas, and what exactly was it that was haunting their old house. And like she'd said, that was something Sam and Dean had to discover for themselves. So instead, she just sighed lightly and said, "You'll understand once you get there, I promise."

Dean snorted in response, and Buffy knew immediately that the conversation was over. "Whatever," he scoffed. "You don't wanna be there for us, fine! See if we care. Just don't expect us to come back for you when the case is finished."

Buffy said nothing else. There was nothing else to say. The things Dean had said to her...they cut her right down to the bone. But she knew how hard this was for him. How hard it was to go back that place, how hard it was to stick his vulnerabilities out there to her to see, only to have her throw them back in his face. Because that's exactly how he'd see it, even if that wasn't the case. So even though in any other situation she'd be kicking his ass so hard that he'd have difficulties sitting down for at least the next year, this time she let it go.

With a huff, Dean stormed through the room, gathering up his belongings in a messy pile and shoving them into his duffel without a thought. He was packed up in record time, and apart from a harsh, 'Hurry your goddamned ass up,' to Sam, he said nothing else as he slammed his way out of the motel room.

Sam finished packing up his stuff and looked over at Buffy apologetically. He leaned down towards her and kissed her on the forehead, before pulling away and looking into her eyes for a long moment. It was in that moment that Buffy realized with great relief that he understood that there was more to her actions than what she was saying, and that he knew that she wasn't doing this for selfish reasons.

"Thank you," she whispered softly.

He nodded and gave her a small smile. "I'll see you," was all he said before he too disappeared out of the room.

And then it was just Faith and Buffy, left in a motel room that suddenly seemed far too big. They sat in silence for a long time, listening hard as they heard the sound of the Impala's engine roaring as it drove away from the motel...and them.

Faith turned to watch Buffy, who was staring at a plain patch of wall as if had suddenly become the most fascinating thing she had ever seen. Dean's words had hurt Buffy, Faith could tell. She knew Buffy better than she knew anybody else in the whole wide world and she could see the slight shine to her eyes and the little line between her eyebrows as if they were glaring, flashing lights.

As she had watched the confrontation, Faith had been waiting for Buffy to blow up. Because Dean had beenway out of order, even if Faith didn't quite understand what Buffy's motivations were herself. But not once had Buffy lost her temper.

Faith trusted Buffy. They had a history, which was equal parts bad and equal parts good, but Faith trusted her. And she trusted Buffy's judgment. Which is why she had kept silent during the argument and why she had accepted Buffy's decision about them not accompanying the guys without a word.

She had let Sam and Dean walk out of their lives – possibly for good – because she trusted Buffy more than anyone she had ever trusted before.

But she wasn't someone who liked to be kept in the dark.

"So," she said brightly. "Now that the over dramatic twosome have left the building, do you wanna give me the real reason we're not in the car with them right now?

Buffy closed her eyes for a second, gathering her thoughts before she opened them again and looked over at Faith. "I had a dream..."

KANSAS

He'd tried not to be weak, he really had. He'd tried to be tough and unemotional about the whole thing, but it just wasn't working out the way he'd planned. Being back here, in his old town, his old house...it made him feel like a little boy again. And like a little boy, all he wanted was his dad.

And so he'd been weak, and he'd dialed his father's number, and just like every time he called, there was that small, faint hope that this time, his dad would pick up. And then there was the ritual disappointment when it went straight to answerphone.

Usually he kept his messages short and simple – a quick note here and there to tell his dad where he and Sam were at, what jobs they'd taken on, a quick request that he call him as soon as he could. But this time it was different. This time he lost his cool.

"Please, dad. Just...call me or message me or something. I...I need your help," he begged into the phone through a voice choked up and hoarse. He blinked hard and looked up, trying to force away the tears that he would never allow to fall.

He wanted to believe in his father, he really did. But even now he knew that leaving this message was a worthless effort. Did John even get any of the messages that Dean left him? And if he did, did he even care?

There was so much more he wanted to say, so many questions he wanted to ask, so many accusations he wanted to hurl. But instead, he flipped his phone closed and shook his head, mentally scolding himself for his momentary disloyalty. Of course his father cared. He was just trying to keep them safe, that was all. Trying to protect him and Sam from whatever he was up against. And if he stopped believing that, he would surely go mad.

Goddammit, there was only one other thing in the whole world he wanted right now. Only one other voice he wanted to hear.

Before his brain even had time to register what the rest of his body was doing, his fingers had already dialed Buffy's number and had brought the phone up to his ear.

She answered before the first ring even had chance to come to an end. "Hello?"

Dean blinked in sudden realization. What the hell was he doing? Buffy didn't want him calling her and bothering her with his stupid problems. She'd made it perfectly clear that she didn't really care about him or his feelings when she had refused to accompany he and Sam to Kansas in the first place. Fucking bitch.

"Dean? Is that you? Your number came up-"

Once again, he flipped the phone shut.

Missouri Moseley. A psychic. If he hadn't of seen her name written in his father's journal, he would have dismissed the idea without a second thought. But John had written about her, and John was never wrong. And so Dean and Sam went to see her, even if Dean was still secretly a little skeptic. Okay, a lot skeptic.

But she had known. Just like that, she had known.

She had known about Sam's girlfriend and about their father going missing, and any doubts he'd had regarding psychics vanished within the first couple of minutes of meeting her. And now he wanted answers.

"Do you know where he is? Is he okay? Does he need help?" he asked her a little frantically, desperate for any light she could shed on their father.

Missouri let out a small, sad sigh. "I just don't know."

"You don't know?" Maybe his first assumptions regarding psychics had been correct after all. "I thought you were psychic? This is what you do, right? You know stuff!"

"Boy, do you see me sawing some skinny tramp in half?" she asked furiously, turning her ferocious gaze on him. He gulped audibly. "You think I'm some kinda magician? I may be able to read thoughts and sense energies in a room but I can't just pull facts out of thin air!" She huffed in indignation and then gestured towards the sofa and said in the same, annoyed voice, "Sit. Please."

Ignoring his brother's amused chuckles, Dean hurried forward to do exactly as the scary lady had told him to do, but was stopped when Missouri moved in front of him once more and held up a hand to stop him in his tracks.

"And by the by," she added, lifting up her arm and slapping him on the head – surprisingly hard considering how dainty her hand was. "You are a donkey's ass, Dean Winchester!"

"Hey!" he protested, rubbing his now sore head and pouting just like the child she made him feel he was again. "Ow! What was that for?"

She poked a stern and pointy looking finger in his direction. "That girl you're thinking about, she only wants what's best for you, young man. And you know it so stop treating her so bad or I'm gonna have to smack you on the behind."

Dean's eyes widened at her words. "Uh...what girl? I'm not thinking about a girl. There's no girl." He wished his voice wasn't coming out so rushed or high pitched, and he made a point of avoiding eye contact with Sam at all costs.

Missouri tutted and waved a dismissive hand as she moved towards an armchair to sit down. "Don't think you can lie to me. That girl's in every one of your thoughts, even if you don't always want her there."

Sam's chuckles had died down, and as he often seemed to be doing lately, he found himself watching his brother curiously. Wait! Was he...blushing? Sam wondered exactly who it was Missouri was talking about. Faith?...Buffy? He was pretty sure he knew.

Following Missouri's example, the two boys sat down on the sofa opposite her, both more than ready to get down to business.

"Boy, you put your foot on my coffee table, I'm gonna whack you with a spoon!"

Dean waited impatiently by the Impala for Sam to finish talking to Missouri. He knew what they were talking about – he wasn't completely ignorant. They were discussing Sam's freaky new abilities. Sam was scared, and Dean wouldn't lie...so was he. It wasn't normal. It wasn't...human. Maybe that was unfair, he didn't know. He didn't know about any of this. It was kind of new territory. Should he talk to Sam about it? Should he avoid it? Should he call his dad and let him know in a message?

He shook his head. Such thoughts could be kept for later. Much later when he wasn't still physically andemotionally tired. Fighting the poltergeist and seeing his mother's spirit had left him...drained.

"Sam, you ready to go?" he called out finally, fed up of being left alone with his own confusing thoughts.

Sam looked up from his conversation and nodded, climbing to his feet and holding out his hand to help up Missouri.

"Now don't you boys be strangers," she said as she ambled over to the car after Sam, giving each of them a long, pointed look.

"We won't," Dean promised.

She glanced over at him, watching his face searchingly with one perfectly arched brow raised. "Well? What are you lingering around here for? You better hurry on back to your girls, otherwise Buffy might just not be there when you return."

Dean froze still for a long moment. His whole body felt as if it had just been dunked into a tub of ice cold water, and a dark feeling of dread was spreading throughout his entire being, beginning right at the very center of his heart. When he finally snapped out of it, his expression was stony. "Sam, get in the car. Now."

Sam looked at his brother in surprise, a little fearful of the manic look in his eyes. He said a quick goodbye to Missouri and did exactly as he was told. He'd barely had time to put on his seat-belt before Dean had the car moving, speeding away from Missouri and their old house and leaving a large cloud of dust in his wake.

Missouri walked back into her house, a severely unamused look marring her usually jolly features. "John Winchester, I could just slap you silly, I really could!" she said with an angry sniff. "Why don't you just talk to your children already? At least leave them some kind of message, let them know you're okay."

John shook his head pitifully and peeked up at her through the hands covering his face. "God, you have no idea how much I want to. I wanna see them so damned much. But I can't. Not yet. Not until I know the truth."

Moving forwards to sit opposite him, she heaved out a loud, dramatic sigh. "Well, I think you're a fool."

He didn't show any signs of disagreeing with her. "But they're okay?" he asked, after a long and lengthy pause.

"As okay as they can be without a father around to watch their backs." Her face softened a smidgeon. "They grew up nice, John. Real nice. You did well."

"And Dean's finally gone and fallen for a young girl?"

"Fallen hard, I should tell you."

He chuckled, warmed by this news. "Never thought I'd see the day. And a slayer, at that."

"Not just a slayer...the slayer."

John let out a low, appreciative whistle. "Buffy Summers. I've heard some tales about her, I can tell you. At least she'll be able to take care of herself. And keep my son in line."

"Yes, they'd make a beautiful pair...if he ever works up the courage to tell her how he really feels, that is. He's a stubborn child, that one." She looked at him meaningfully. "Just like his daddy."

Sam wanted to throw up. He sincerely wished he hadn't of insisted on stopping for food ten minutes before, because now all he wanted to do was bring it all back up. It was the careless way in which Dean was driving which was the problem, and the fact that the Impala was speeding down the road so fast that the outside surroundings were nothing more than a dark blur.

"Dean, will you just slow down for a minute? Please," he begged, gripping onto the edges of his seat like that would keep him safe.

Dean didn't even spare a glance in his direction. "Will you chill out, Sammy. We're practically there."

"I know, but you've been driving almost double the speed limit ever since we left the fast food place, not to mention Kansas. At the rate you're going we'll have crashed and died before we can get back to the motel and you'll never even get to see..." Perhaps wisely, he decided against finishing his sentence.

Dean didn't reply, didn't even give any indication that he'd heard his brother speak at all, but Sam watched in trepidation as the speed dial went up another notch.

Time for him to try again. "Will you at least talk to me?"

"Sure thing, bro. Let's talk. What do you wanna talk about, Sammy? Come on, we'll talk about anything you want, bud. Anything at all." Dean's sentences were coming out far too fast and manic, and he still hadn't taken his eyes off the road for a single second. Normally Sam would be the first to encourage safe driving, but he wished his brother would look at him, just once. He was seriously starting to worry about the state of Dean's mental health.

"Okay, let's start with the fact that a couple of days ago you told Buffy that you wouldn't be coming back for her and Faith and now that Missouri has told you she might not be there you're acting like a crazy person and breaking about thirty three laws to speed your butt back to her." He was treading on dangerous grounds here, he knew that. But he had to know. He'd kept silent on the issue for a real long time – longer than any normal person could have hope to achieve – and now he was ready for some answers.

Dean's jaw tightened. "Next question."

"Fine. Was Missouri talking about Buffy when she said that there was a girl always on your-"

"Question time over. I don't think I wanna talk any more."

Sam sighed in frustration. "Dean, I really think we need to talk about this."

"About what?"

"You know what! About Buf-"

"Shut your cake hole, Sam! We're not talking about this! Conversation over, okay?" It was really more of a statement than a question, and there was such a fierce anger in Dean's eyes that for once, Sam didn't dare to try and argue.

Instead, he sat back in his seat, determined in his own mind that this would definitely be a topic he would notbe dropping.

It wasn't much long later that they finally drove into town, and Sam noted with relief that Dean actually slowed the car down. Perhaps he realized that getting pulled over by the cops probably wouldn't get him back to the motel any faster.

About five minutes away from said motel, Dean spied a small, blonde woman strolling down the street, and with a happy jolt through his entire body, he recognized her as Buffy.

"Holy crap!" Sam yelped as Dean haphazardly yanked the steering wheel over so that he could park up next to her, causing his younger brother to fly into his window, despite the use of his seat-belt.

Ignoring Sam's uncharacteristic curses, Dean jumped out of the car as soon as it had stopped and ran to where a surprised Buffy was now standing.

"Dean!" she cried. "What the hell was that? You could've crashed! You could've gotten killed! Do you know how dangerous that was?"

He had no answer to her rambles, and he really didn't think she expected one either. But for a long moment, he stood directly in front of her and stared, taking in every inch of her with greedy, devouring eyes. More than anything in the world did he want to pull her into his arms and never let her go, feel her body against his, smell her Buffy smell, touch her soft skin.

But he couldn't, because he was too freakin' chicken.

So instead of all the things he wanted to do, he settled for lifting up a shaking hand and resting it on her shoulder. He squeezed so tightly that if she had been anyone but the slayer, it probably would have cracked.

"You didn't leave," he said finally, his voice hoarse with emotion.

Buffy looked confused at his observation. "Why would I leave? Just 'cause you can be a big chump sometimes doesn't mean I'm gonna bail on you."

Dean grinned at her admission. In fact, he grinned so wide that he thought his mouth was going to split right open there and then but honestly, he didn't even care. Because he was finally here. And so was she. And if that didn't make him the happiest man alive, then it certainly made him the most relieved.

And then he got it. Missouri had played him, good and proper.

'You think I'm a magician? I may be able to read thoughts and sense energies in a room but I can't just pull facts out of thin air.'

Those were her words, her exact words. She couldn't have known that Buffy was going to leave, not unless she had been reading her mind. And Buffy had been much too far away for that, if what Missouri had told him was true.

No, Missouri had been playing on Dean's own insecurities. She'd known that he was worried that Buffy might have upped and left for home while he was away and she had used it against him to make him realize what a giant ass he had been.

And he had. He knew now why Buffy had chosen not to accompany them to Kansas. She must have known about his mom. She was right when she'd said that this mission was something he and Sam had to do by themselves.

He opened his mouth to apologize, but Buffy stopped him midway by holding up her hand. "No need," she said knowingly, her eyes soft and kind.

Dean smiled again, and let his own hand drop down to his side. He looked down to the ground, uncharacteristically shy for the first time in...ever. "Do you uh...do you want a ride back to the motel? We're headed that way."

"Nah," replied Buffy, shaking her head. "I was just on my way to the diner to grab something to eat. Faith and I have been living on sugary snacks for the past couple of days without Sam here to encourage us to eat properly. I need some real food before I turn into a big, gooey pile of sugary mess."

Without looking away from Buffy for a single second, Dean shouted his brother's name.

Sam, who had climbed out of the car minutes before so that he could watch their interaction, waved a hand in greeting. "Hey Buffy."

"Hey Sammy." Her eyes only strayed away from Dean's for one short moment.

"Catch," Dean called, throwing the keys to the Impala in Sam's direction. "Do me a favor and take her back to the motel, would ya?"

Sam looked down at the keys in his hand and back at his brother in confusion. "You want me to drive your car?"

"Sure."

"And you're not coming?"

"No. I'm gonna go grab something to eat with Buffy."

"But we only just ate. Even you can't be hungry agai-"

"Stop your whining you little bitch. Just take the damn car back already."

Holding up his hands in defeat, Sam did exactly as he was told and climbed back into the car, muttering obscenities about his cranky brother as he did so. Dean and Buffy didn't say another words until the sound of the Impala's engine had completely disappeared.

"So, you're eating with me then?" Buffy questioned finally, an amused looking smirk set firmly on her face.

"You know me, I can never say no to a cheeseburger." He smiled cheekily. "Especially if you're buying."

As he and Buffy stood outside of the all night diner, Dean couldn't help grimacing at the neon pink decorations through the window. "Delicious," he mumbled sarcastically.

Buffy rolled her eyes at his tone of voice and grabbed a hold of his arm to pull him inside. "Don't be such a baby. We'll get the food to go."

"You're such a freak," Dean observed, watching Buffy in amusement as they strolled slowly back in the direction of the motel.

Buffy glanced up from her food. "Why?"

He looked down at her ketchup covered donuts pointedly. "I don't think that counts as proper food."

"Slayer appetite," Buffy reasoned with a shrug. "Besides, I had a salad first."

It wasn't long later that they reached the motel, and as they walked down the platform towards their adjoining rooms, there was a definite hesitance within both of their steps.

"We should go inside," Dean voiced once they reached their destination, though his tone of voice said otherwise.

Buffy nodded, and the two stood in silence for a long moment, neither making any movements towards the door of the motel room.

Eventually, Dean let out a little puff of air, turning around and sitting on the low steps of the platform. At Buffy's questioning look, he shrugged and explained, "Don't feel like going in just yet."

Letting out a little smile, Buffy nodded and sat down next to him.

They sat together in silence for a long while, each lost in their own thoughts as they gazed up at the almost full moon.

"Did you know?" Dean asked eventually. He was pretty sure he knew the answer to that question, but he needed to be sure. "Did you know what was going to happen? With my mom? Did you know she'd be there?"

Buffy dropped her head to stare down at her boots. "Yes," she replied simply. "I had a dream. A...slayer dream, you know? I'm sorry I couldn't tell you. I just thought that if Faith and I were there...it was just something you an Sam had to figure out by yourselves."

Dean nodded. "I know." He paused for a moment, considering his next words. For a moment, he contemplated not saying them at all. But Buffy had been honest with him, and he owed her just as much. "Sometimes I think you know me better than anybody in the whole world. Better than Sam. Better than my dad. Better than myself, even."

Buffy looked at him, surprise evident in her eyes at his admission. She didn't know how to respond, how to tell him how good his words made her feel inside. Nothing she could say could match the depth of his words, so in the end, she settled for saying nothing at all.

They stayed there, in that very same position, right up until night began to fade and the sky began to lighten. And both of them were happy.


	21. Chapter 21

Vampires Suck

Disclaimer – Don't own anything you might recognize. They all belong to their respective owners.

AN – First of all I'd like to apologize for taking so long to get this chapter out, even though I promised they'd be quicker from now on. But I've had a very mad month – especially finding out that I'm going to have a baby! So as you can imagine, my mind has been focused on other things. But I'm back now and I'm going to be trying my hardest to get as much writing in as I can over the next couple of months.  
Also, there is a slight spoiler in this chapter for the film, Kal Ho Naa Ho. Nothing that would spoil the plot though if you're planning on watching it.

Vampires Suck

Buffy had been staring – no, glaring – at Dean for the past seven minutes and forty three seconds, and the ignorant douchebag still had yet to notice. Everybody noticed her steely glare. Demons ran in fear with their occasionally not so metaphorical tails between their slimy legs when she sent her steely glare in their direction. And yet Dean...clueless.

Jerk.

Enough was enough.

"What are you doing?" she asked him sharply, speaking for the first time in seven minutes and fifty six seconds.

Dean looked up quickly in confusion at the stern tone in her voice. "What does it look like I'm doing?" he responded, sounding an awful lot like a sullen teenager. He gestured towards the spread of weapons he had sitting around him on his bed.

"It looks like you're loading that gun up with silver bullets."

He pulled a 'duh' face and nodded. "Well yeah, standard procedure when dealing with werewolves, princess. Not everything goes poof when you shove a stick in it." He pronounced each word slowly and carefully as if he were talking to someone particularly dumb.

Buffy stood up. "Dean, we're not killing it!" she burst out.

He stopped loading bullets and looked up at her as if she'd declared that her greatest desire was to become a banana. "What do you mean we're not gonna kill it? What do you think we're gonna do with it? Tie a leash around its neck and take it for walkies?"

Buffy strode over to Sam's bed and picked up the tranquilizer gun she had prepared earlier in the afternoon, when they had first learned about the fact that there was a werewolf in the area. "We'll use this. This poor guy or girl is only a werewolf three nights of every month, Dean. They may not even know what's happened to them. They're probably scared and confused. We need to help them!"

"Yeah, great idea," he replied sarcastically. "And then when the next full moon comes around and this poor guy or girl kills a whole bunch of people, we can help them too. Oh wait, no we can't, because they'll all have beenripped to shreds."

"Gah! Why are you being such an ass about this? You're so damned stubborn!"

"Stubborn? Are you freakin' kidding me? I'm not being stubborn! This is simple math, baby-cakes. Werewolf equals demon, demon equals evil. We hunt evil, we kill it. End of story. Capiche?"

"Capiche this, you asshole," she answered through gritted teeth, stalking towards Dean with such a deadly glint in her eyes that he actually leaned back a little in fear. Buffy snatched the offending gun out of his hands and before he could even object, she had snapped it in two and thrown it back at him. "Things aren't always as black and white as you think they are," she said in a low voice, before turning, grabbing the tranquilizer gun and her jacket and storming towards the door.

Sam, who along with Faith had been watching the whole argument in bemusement, called out after her. "Buffy, where are you going?"

"To burn off some frustration in a nice, friendly graveyard," she barked in reply, before promptly disappearing out of the motel room door.

In the silence after her exit, Dean looked down at his broken gun pieces in disbelief, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to make sense of what had just happened. "She did not just do that!" he decided on eventually. Well, denial had worked for him before.

"Sister totally did," chimed in an amused Faith.

Huffing, Dean stood up with a determined frown set firmly on his face, fully intending on following Buffy and having this out. Unfortunately, or fortunately perhaps, Faith saw right to the center of his intentions straight away.

"Whoa there, cowboy!" she exclaimed, grabbing a hold of his sleeve to stop him from moving too far. "Take a chill pill, yeah? Give her time to calm down. Trust me when I say this is not a subject you want to get into with her when she's pissed. Hell, this ain't no subject you wanna be starting with Buffy when she's happy as a daisy."

He sighed in acceptance and pulled his arm free, moving back over to the bed to sit down. "What the hell is her damned problem, anyway? She knows the gig better than any of us. We kill demons, it's just what we do. When did she start getting all demon rights about it?"

"Being the slayer is different to being a hunter, and I don't just mean the skills thing. You have to learn that sometimes, making exceptions ain't a bad thing, and Buffy's learned that. And so will you. Sometimes, demons aren't all bad. Sometimes they are, but they can still help you out where others can't. Sometimes a demon's not a demon at all, but just a poor kid who had a real messed up thing happen to him."

Dean raised one lone eyebrow at her knowingly. "Why do I have a feeling there's a bigger story to this?"

Faith snorted. "With B? There's more than a story. More like a whole freakin' library. But these are tales you'll have to ask her about, 'cause I ain't your librarian."

"Aw, come on, Faith. You've gotta give us something. You can't just leave us hanging here like this," he wheedled.

"Dean, can't you just respect Buffy's privacy on this?" Sam spoke up for the first time since Faith and Dean had began talking. "If she wants us to know, she'll tell us herself."

"Shut up, whiney. If you don't wanna hear it you don't have to listen."

Faith looked between the two brothers', taking note of Dean's determination for answers and Sam's subtle curiosity. She sighed, knowing that she'd have to give them something. Not Spike, that was for sure. That story was private and belonged to Buffy only. And not Angel either. And not even that Anya chick. "There was this one kid she went to high school with. Oz, his name was. Nice guy. Little too quiet for my taste, but he was decent. Not judgmental like her other friends, and I appreciated that. He was bitten."

"By a werwolf?" Sam asked, his reluctance to enter the conversation soon forgotten.

"By his little cousin. Who yeah, also happened to be a werewolf. Point of the story is, Oz changed, became a werewolf three nights of every month. And each month he'd lock himself up, make sure he couldn't escape and hurt people – because that was the last thing he wanted. We even used to take it in turns to watch him. Anyway, the thing of it it, this kid had a demon inside him, but he was still a real good guy. He had this bad thing deep down, but he chose to fight it. So when Buffy tells you that not everything in this world is black and white, you better believe it. Because in this kinda life, you'll get nowhere without eventually stepping into that gray area."

As he processed Faith's words, Dean sat back against his headboard, folding his arms and biting his lip. After a long minute, he hung his head and groaned. "Guess I've managed to really piss her off again, huh?"

Faith shrugged. "Meh. Give her time to cool it. Let her patrol, burn off some energy on some vamps. She'll come back once she's had a chance to calm down. You know what she's like, she wont stay mad at you for long."

"Seriously, man. You need to stop pacing, you're making me dizzy," an annoyed Faith announced to Dean a while later as she painted her toenails on Sam's bed.

"It's been almost four hours," he replied in agitation. "Why isn't she back yet?"

"For the hundred and twenty eighth time, she's probably just out burning off some anger on some demon ass. Anger, I might add, that you caused her to have in the first place. Couldn't you tell how pissed she was when she left the room? I'm telling you, when B gets mad, she can go for hours."

"Fine, but why hasn't she at least checked in? She always checks in."

Faith grunted in irritation and twisted the lid back onto the bottle of nail polish and threw it onto the bed, reaching over for her cellphone instead. She dialed Buffy's number and after a long moment, she dropped the phone back onto the bed. "Her cell is off, probably ran out of battery or something. Happy now?"

No, actually, he wasn't. "I think I should go find her."

Sam didn't even know why he was about to bother to speak at all. Dean wouldn't hear him, not really. Not when Buffy was involved. "Faith's right," he piped up. "I'm sure Buffy's fine. She is a slayer."

Dean stopped pacing. They were probably right, he knew that. But he also knew that he was going after her. There was something inside of him that just couldn't help it. "I'll see you later," he mumbled, stuffing a stake into his back pocket and picking up an unbroken gun and a crossbow.

As he left the room, Sam looked over at Faith for a long moment. There was a sad, knowing look in her eyes, and Sam found that when she looked up at him, it was almost impossible for him to keep eye contact.

Dean was such an ass.

It didn't take Dean long to find her. It never took him long to find her.

This time, he found her in only the second cemetery her looked in. There were only three and if she hadn't of been in any of them he would have had to scale the whole town, so for this he was grateful.

He knew she was in the cemetery the second he entered through the large, metal gates – he could hear the muffled, strained sounds of a fight taking place, and he headed in that direction immediately, no doubt in his mind that it was the sound of her kicking some demon butt.

He was about a hundred feet away when he finally caught sight of her.

She was fighting four vampires on the top of a large mausoleum. Dean smiled to himself – the vampires didn't have a chance. She was quick, deadly, vicious, beautiful. All he could do was stop and stare, something that had become a habit in her company as of late.

He watched as she delivered a perfect set of punches, before twisting and ducking away from oncoming attacks. She was doing perfectly.

That was until a fifth vampire whipped up the wall of the mausoleum, flipped over the edge and landed behind her. Buffy hadn't seen the newest vampire addition as of yet, nor had she seen his big, ugly sword.

"Buffy!" Dean yelled out in warning.

It was all his fault.

When he called out her name – though his intentions were good – Buffy, surprised to hear him there, turned her head momentarily, distracted for one, tiny half of a second. That one, tiny half of a second was all it took for the vampires to gain the upper hand and take over the fight.

One vampire kicked away the tranquilizer gun she must have dropped when the fight had begun, another batted away the stake in her hand, causing it to fly away and land on the grass somewhere below them. A third span around and high kicked her in the chest.

It seemed to Dean like it all happened in slow motion after that.

One moment she was on the top of the mausoleum, the next the force of the kick had her soaring through the air and landing on the hard ground some feet away.

It hadn't been that high, and normally Buffy would have been able to simply shrug off the fall and roll back up onto her feet, ready to get back into the fight. But the sound of her head cracking against a gravestone as she landed on the floor seemed to resonate through the entire cemetery, and right through Dean's soul.

He paused for an entire second – a second that lasted so long that he could have lived right through three ordinary lives – before he was running, running faster than he'd ever ran in his entire life. "No!" he bellowed in horror as he approached her lifeless looking body.

But before he could reach her, the five vampires had jumped off the roof of the mausoleum and were surrounding her. Dean wanted to be sick.

He didn't even think about the numbers, think about the fact that he was just an ordinary man with no special powers, think about the fact that in any normal situation they would have probably overpowered him. His mind was blank as he reached for his stake.

It was only a minute later that he found himself blinking in surprise, alone and standing in a cloud of dust.

No, not alone.

"Buffy," he mumbled, dropping to his knees besides her. He rolled her over so that he could see her face. "Oh God."

There was so much blood. All clumped up in her hair and dripping down the side of her face from the nasty gash on the side of her head. Her eyes were closed and her skin had gone a deathly pale. Desperately, he placed his fingers on her pulse point, tears of relief filling his eyes when he found it was still beating, though faint at best.

"Buffy," he choked out, pulling her into his lap and shaking her gently. "Buffy...sweetheart, wake up. Please."

But she didn't, no matter how many times he begged her too.

With his tears finally released and slowly making their tracks down his cheeks, Dean gathered up Buffy into his arms and stood, turning and taking off at a run towards the cemetery gates, and out towards the nearest hospital.

Dean burst through the hospital doors with a cry of relief, out of breath from running the whole mile and a half distance from the cemetery to the hospital with an unconscious and bleeding Buffy in his arms. If only he hadn't of left his car at the motel he might have gotten there quicker.

Everyone in the room stopped what they were doing and stared up at him in shock as he made his dramatic entrance.

"Please," he gasped, heading straight over towards the woman behind the desk. "I need help. It's my...it's Buffy...she's...she's..."

The woman nodded, her eyes widening as she caught a proper look at Buffy.

As he continued to fight for his breath, and the overwhelming worry for Buffy's life, the next couple of minutes seemed to slow down to a blurry jumble for Dean – contrary to the way things had sped up earlier in the cemetery.

Later on, all he would be able to remember was the woman at the desk – Ashley, he later learned her name was – yelling a whole bunch of things and then a lot of other serious looking people arriving with a wheeley stretcher thing that Dean couldn't remember the name of for the life of him, and then they were all yelling a whole bunch of things. Then they had told him that he had to let her go and he had adamantly refused so they yelled some more and told him that if he didn't let go of her then she was probably going to die so he yelled a whole bunch of things before finally letting her go. Watching her be wheeled away from him and not following after her felt like it was probably one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do.

And then Ashley was back and getting him to fill in paperwork and asking him questions, like whether or not he and Buffy were related – husband and wife, he answered – and how exactly she had gotten such an injury in the first place. As she had asked this last question, Ashley had looked at Dean like he was nothing more than scum, and he just knew that she was thinking something sick like domestic violence, especially when she had asked him whether or not they had a good marriage. His look of disgust had been enough to spur Ashley on to other questions.

She'd asked him whether there were any other relatives that could come and sit with him, and it was only then that he remembered Faith and Sam.

Faith was almost as pale as Buffy had been when she stormed into the hospital not long later, a distressed Sam hurrying in behind her.

One look at Dean's troubled and rigid body was all it took for her to know that this time, it was bad.

He was hunched over in one of the hospital chairs, his whole body shaking violently. His hands and gray t-shirt were covered in what Faith assumed must be Buffy's blood, and there were streaks of it on his face and in his hair from where he'd been continuously running his hands through it in anxiousness.

For the first time in her life, Faith had no words. All she could do was listen as Sam did his best to get what had happened out of a disturbed Dean.

Over an hour and a half had passed and Dean, Faith and Sam were still in the waiting room of the hospital, just...waiting.

After Dean had done what he could to explain the events of the evening to Faith and Sam, he had gone back to his hunched over position and hadn't since moved. Faith, unable to sit still for any length of time while she was so nervous and agitated, had taken to pacing the small corridor, her hands balled up tightly and her face closed off. Sam had spent his time torn between sitting, getting cups of coffee for everybody, and asking the nurses and doctors whether there was any news yet.

"Anything?" Faith demanded, once Sam had returned for the sixth time.

He shook his head sadly. "No. And the nurse told me very firmly that when there is news she'll come and tell me. I think I'm beginning to piss them off."

Faith heaved a weary sigh and threw herself down onto one of the seats opposite Sam and Dean. She rubbed her hands over her face. "She has to be okay, right?"

Sam nodded, trying his hardest to work his face into a reassuring expression. "I'm sure she'll be fine." And he had to keep on repeating that to himself, otherwise he'd go crazy with worry.

Faith brought her boot clad feet up onto the seat in front of her and wrapped her arms around her legs, resting her chin on her knees. Her wide eyes stared unblinkingly down at the corridor floor and it occurred to Sam for the first time since meeting her that although she did her damnedest to hide it, Faith could actually be quite vulnerable, when it came to the right person.

"Are you okay?" he asked her.

She started and glanced over at him in surprise, shrugging helplessly. "Sure. Why wouldn't I be? I'm not the one fighting for my life."

"That's not what I meant."

"Enlighten me then."

"I mean emotionally. Just, I know how close you and Buffy are. You must be terrified for her."

The fact that Faith didn't immediately scoff the moment Sam brought up the E-word was testimony to just how upset she really was. Instead, she simply nodded slowly. "We weren't always, you know."

Sam raised his eyebrows in interest. Neither Faith nor Buffy had ever really spoke much about their history before now, but from what he'd gathered, it hadn't been all plain sailing. He'd wanted to ask but honestly, he was a little bit frightened. He knew that Buffy had been the only slayer up until Faith had come along for whatever reason. Maybe that had caused problems for the two? After all, before Buffy had cast that spell to turn all those young potential slayer girls into real slayers, two slayers existing at the same time had been unheard of. From what Sam had read, it was almost unnatural. "Go on," he encouraged. He had to admit to himself that only half of his encouragement was because he knew that she needed to talk and get it all out, and the other half was simply because he was curious.

Faith wasn't even looking in his direction when she continued. "When Buffy and I first met we tried to work together. Two slayers in one town...you'd think we'd be unstoppable, right? But there was always this rivalry between us, even if we tried to hide it. I wanted what she had, and she wanted to be the best. So what could have been a brilliant team was...well, not. And even though we were the only two people in the entire world who could relate to each other, really understand what the other was going through...we were never close. And then I snapped. Did a whole world of bad things, and you know what?"

"What?"

"She still tried to save me. Kept on trying to save me until the only other thing she could do was kill me."

Even Dean pulled himself out of his stupor at this.

"As much as it pains me to say this, I had it coming," Faith admitted. "Buffy's job was to destroy evil, and I was evil. And obviously it didn't work, 'cause here I am, alive and kicking. So anyway, I did my best to ruin her life even more before finally realizing just what the hell I'd become – oh yeah, after she'd saved my life, once again. And then I did my time, went back to Sunnyhell and helped B and her crew save the damned world. You did hear about Sunnydale, right?"

"It was a Hellmouth, wasn't it?" Sam answered. "Yeah, Buffy told me all about it."

"So get this, after we shut it down, all of Buffy's little Scooby Gang just expected me to pick up and leave, right. They told me I'd done my job and I didn't need to stick around any longer than necessary. A couple of weeks before, they'd been electing me their freakin' leader so this was a giant kick in the teeth, I can tell ya. But Buffy says to them all – and this was after all the crap I'd put her through over the years – she says 'If Faith goes, I go'. Just like that. No one's ever stuck up for me like that before. Never. Not without wanting something in return. That girl's been there for me in ways that no one else ever has. I love her, you know? Love her to pieces. She's my family, and I just can't lose her, okay? I just can't."

Sam swallowed, his emotions running high. Faith had never shared anything like this with him. Ever. "You won't," he promised. "You won't lose her."

If only he could guarantee his words.

It had been a long while since Dean had stopped hoping that when Sam came back from one of his walks, this time he'd bring some actual news. So when he heard the sounds of his brother's returning footsteps for the thirty six millionth time, he didn't even bother to look up to gauge Sam's expression. Not even when his brother came to a halt right in front of him.

"Dean," Sam cajoled softly.

Dean ignored him. Sam was probably just trying to force another disgusting hospital coffee down his throat or was going to suggest that he go back to the motel and get a shower and a rest. He'd suggested the same thing at least five times now. How many times did a guy have to say no already? He knew he looked half dead, he knew he was covered in blood and beginning to freak other people out. He just didn't care.

"Dean." Sam's tone was more insistent this time. "Dean!"

Dean finally raised his head, but only in annoyance. "Sam, for the love of God, I'm not leaving this hospital! I don't give a flying crap if I look like hell and I don't give a flying crap what you say-" He stopped ranting as the shit-eating grin on Sam's face finally registered in his brain. "What are you so happy about?"

"She's stable."

Dean unfolded himself from the chair and stood up abruptly. "What?"

"Buffy's stable. I mean, she's still conked out on drugs and all but she's gonna be okay, man." Sam laughed gleefully. "The doctors think it's some kind of miracle, the way she's healing so fast. Of course, we could explain that she possesses mystical slayer healing abilities but I don't think they'd quite understand..."

The rest of Sam's happy babbling was drowned out by the other voice taking over Dean's mind. The voice yelling 'She's okay. She's okay! She's okay!'

"I need to see her," Dean choked out, interrupting the one sided conversation Sam was still having. "Can we see her? Hell, I don't even care, I'll see her anyway. Yeah, I'm gonna see her."

"Dean, calm down a minute will you? Yes, we're allowed to go in and see her, but only one person at a time. Faith was there when we got the news so she's gone in first. We'll take it in turns to sit with Buffy until she wakes up, okay?"

Dean nodded and sat back down slowly. He wanted to see Buffy now, but he couldn't begrudge Faith her own time with her. He'd just have to wait his turn.

Man, this was gonna be hard.

True to Sam's promise, he, Faith and Dean all took turns sitting with Buffy while she slept. Once Dean had seen and spent time with her and had been reassured that she was in fact going to make it, he finally agreed to head on back to the motel room to take a shower. He even allowed himself a whole one hours sleep before making his way back to the hospital.

Despite desperately wanting to be, it wasn't Dean who was there when she finally woke up, it was Sam. After chatting with her for a while and letting her know how much he'd missed her, Sam excused himself so that somebody else could go in and see her while she was still awake. And as Faith had gone back to the motel to rest up for a little while, this somebody else happened to be Dean.

With his heart fluttering madly in his chest, he pushed open the door to her room.

Hearing the squeak of the door, Buffy turned her head slightly in curiosity. When she saw who it was she broke out into a luminous smile. "Hey," she greeted weakly.

Dean turned his head. Nope, there was no one behind him. That smile really was for him. How could she be looking at him so warmly after what he'd done? "Hey you," he replied, his voice slightly hoarse.

Buffy motioned for him to come closer. After he had taken the seat next to her bed, she grabbed his hand and laced her fingers through his. "Sam told me what happened," she informed him, having no problems with getting straight down to business. "You saved my life."

The sweet smile she sent his way caused Dean's heart to ache, and he shook his head and tried to remove his hand. Buffy would have none of it, however, and simply held on tighter. "You wouldn't have needed saving if it wasn't for me."

Buffy frowned at him and let out a frustrated sigh. "Dean Winchester, don't even think of blaming yourself for this!"

"But if I hadn't of called your name out like I did-"

"Then I would have been shishkabobbed by that sword. And in past experiences I've found a little bump to the head to be much less hassle than a sword through the chest."

"But-"

"No buts, Dean," she declared, interrupting him once again. "Listen to me, okay? I'm the slayer. And in case you haven't noticed this fun and interesting fact, I kinda face danger on an annoyingly every day basis. It's just in the job description. And yeah, sometimes I'm gonna get hurt, and sometimes it's gonna be worse than other times. This time happened to have been pretty bad, I'll admit that. But look at me now, I'm fine, I'm gonna be okay. And if you hadn't of gotten me to the hospital when you did, you'd be dealing with one dead Buffy right about now. Which is a whole lot worse than just a bang on the head Buffy, right?"

Throughout Buffy's entire speech, the weight on Dean's shoulders had literally been slipping away as his whole body relaxed. She didn't blame him! Just when he thought this girl couldn't get any more wonderful than her pain in the ass little self already was, she went and did or said something like this – something that made him feel like a whole lot better or of a person, a whole lot more of a man. His shoulders sagged as the tension he'd been feeling over the past couple of days left his bofy and he pulled her hand up to his mouth to place little kisses over her fingertips. "You have no idea how frightened I was," he growled into her hand, before sighing and laying his head down on her bed. He kept a hold of her hand, and wrapped his other arm around her thighs. "I can't lose you."

"You won't," a touched Buffy assured him, his words causing her heart to thump harder in her chest.

"Vampires suck," he said a moment later, his voice sounding muffled.

Buffy giggled and let out an unladylike snort. "Literally."

"That's what mean. Vampires are supposed to rip open your neck and suck your blood. And what are these guys doing? Pushing girls off of walls. Yeah, they're the big bad alright."

"Hmm, true. Their standards are really slipping."

Dean chuckled, and snuggled his head further into her thin hospital blanket. He looked exhausted, and Buffy knew him well enough by now to know exactly why. Like with everything that went wrong in any of their lives, he blamed himself for her accident, and the guilt had been eating him up inside – keeping him from eating, sleeping, even resting. And now she had successfully removed that guilt from him, he was exhausted. He couldn't even keep his eyes open.

A moment later, Buffy heard the sound of Dean snoring softly as he slipped into a deep slumber. She smiled to herself and closed her eyes, letting her fingers rest softly entwined in his hair. They both needed to rest, and she'd rather do it with him than on her own.

"Jeez Buff, if I got a dollar for every scrape you've gotten yourself into lately I'd be a whole lot richer than I've ever been," Faith commented lightly as she sat down in the now empty chair next to Buffy's bed later that afternoon, after Buffy had finally managed to persuade Dean to go back to the motel to get a proper nights rest.

Buffy watched Faith with knowing eyes. Her tone of voice was jokey, but there was a seriousness in her eyes that let Buffy know just how relieved Faith was that she was okay, even if she did have a little trouble getting it out verbally.

She took a hold of Faith's hand, and Faith instantly closed her mouth from whatever nonsense she had been about to babble. Her eyes moistened and she let out a sniff, making sure to look anywhere else but at her hospitalized friend, although her hand did squeeze Buffy's back so tightly that it almost hurt.

That action alone meant more to Buffy than any number of words ever could.

Dean made his way through the hospital, taking a route he'd memorized perfectly over the past few days since Buffy had been moved to another room after she'd woken up. As much as he just wanted to take her away from here, he didn't mind making these visits. Hell, he'd stay in the damned hospital twenty four hours a day if only Buffy would let him. But he knew Buffy wasn't happy here – unsurprising since she hated hospitals so much – and so he was glad that they'd be able to leave with her the next day.

When he arrived at Buffy's room, whistling cheerfully, he was extremely perturbed to find her balling out her pretty little eyes. His whistle faded like a dying out firework.

"Angel-face, what's wrong?" he asked urgently, moving swiftly towards her bed and running a hand over her hair. "Are you in pain? Did one of the doctors upset you? Or one of the nurses? Or a patient? Because I'll kick their ass, I swear, even if they are sick."

Buffy shook her head at his questions and gestured towards the laptop sitting on the bed. Dean hadn't even noticed it in his haste. "Sam let me borrow it so I wouldn't get bored," she explained. "I was watching a movie." She dabbed a tissue underneath her eyes and blew her nose. "It's so sad!"

"Oh," Dean replied slowly, rolling his eyes as her explanation processed in his mind. He let go of her and sat down in the chair near her bed, shaking his head and muttering 'women' under his breath.

"Hey!" Buffy grumbled. "I heard that, jerk face."

"Let me guess," Dean said, his tone of voice mocking. "It's a film about a pretty boy and a hot girl and a whole lot of pansy-show-you-nothing lovin', tears, heartbreak and a good ol' happy ending. Am I right?"

Buffy pffted at his accusations. "No. It's sort of a love triangle. It's very moving, and also kinda cheesy."

He snorted in bemusement. "Sounds fantabulous. Please tell me, whatever is the name of this heartbreakingly beautiful motion picture? Actually, unless it's called 'Three In A Bed', I'm not sure I wanna know."

"Actually it's called 'Kal Ho Naa Ho. It's Indian," she added, when Dean raised a questioning eyebrow in her direction.

"Subtitled?"

"Yuh huh."

"I didn't know you could read."

"Ha ha ha, Dean's a comedian."

"Well I gotta tell you, beautiful, it sounds absolutely riveting," he teased dryly. "Positively tear-jerking."

"Did you know that sarcasm is the lowest form of social conduct?"

"And yet it's my favorite form of wit."

Realizing that her not so persuasive manner was getting nowhere in convincing him, Buffy huffed and moved over as far as she could towards the edge of the bed.

"What are you doing?" Dean inquired curiously.

"Moving over so that you can come up here and watch the film with me."

"Ha!" he scoffed. "Like hell am I watching some soppy chick flick crap. I'd rather eat beetles."

"You totally are watching this movie with me. Just 'cause I'm in a hospital bed doesn't mean I'm not strong enough to hurl you up here. And if you're not watery eyed by the end of the movie I'll give you a hundred dollars."

"But you've just watched it," he pointed out.

Buffy shrugged. "I could watch it again. It was a good movie. And I missed half of it because the tears were in the way."

"There's not enough room on the bed." His excuses were getting more pitiful by the second.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Why do you think I just moved up? Just squash up next to me, dumbo." She patted the tiny little space next to her.

Dean heaved out a giant sigh, pretending to be annoyed as he conceded. But honestly, he'd just realized that by watching the movie, he'd get the perfect excuse to get up close with Buffy, and now he was cursing himself for fighting her over it in the first place.

He moved over towards her and slid into the bed next to her. There really wasn't enough space for the two of them on the tiny hospital bed, so Dean, smiling gleefully to himself, pulled Buffy carefully into his arms.

He had to refrain from yelling out in triumph when she didn't pull away, but snuggled in even closer to his warm chest.

As the end credits ran down the length of the laptop screen, Buffy was doing her damned hardest not to let out a hysterical giggle.

A helplessly damp eyed Dean was lying next to her, holding his breath and biting down hard on his lip to try and hide his emotional state.

"So," she said casually. "Did you like the movie?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Was okay."

His could-care-less attitude was ruined when he let out an unforgiving sniff.


	22. Chapter 22

Her Birthday

After an extremely relieved Buffy had finally been released from hospital – or the prison cell, as she taken to calling it – Faith had sat Sam and Dean down and announced that the four of them would be taking a well deserved holiday, somewhere warm and demon free so that Buffy could recover in peace and sunshine. Her tone of voice had left no room for arguments, and Dean, quite unexpectedly, hadn't even tried. He had simply nodded his head in agreement and told Faith that it sounded like a good idea.

Sam, while deep down being slightly put out that the search for their father and the demon would have to be put on hold for a couple of weeks, also recognized Buffy's need for recuperation and after a couple of hours thought, was all for it.

Which was how mere hours after Buffy had arrived back at the motel, the gang found themselves packing up their belongings and heading out on the road to Florida.

Faith was almost childlike in her excitement, thrilled with the idea of going on her first ever real family holiday. Half way there, she had pestered Dean until he had parked up at a large mall, and then dragged he and Sam and Buffy around for at least three hours to purchase all the holiday items she imagined they might need. Dean had tried to draw the line at the giant crocodile lilo, but she had grabbed a hold of his hand and began jumping up and down right there in the middle of the store, whining 'Please, please, please, I need it' until he had finally given up out of sheer embarrassment.

For the rest of the drive, she had demanded that instead of Dean's usual choice of tunes, he play the fun, holiday pop song filled cassettes that she had purchased especially for his totally out of date car. After switching the volume up to the highest it could possibly go, and winding down the windows so that the warm wind was whipping through his hair, even Dean was finding it hard to not catch on to Faith's good humor. And when Faith and Buffy and Sam started singing along to the songs in their loudest, most out of tune voices, he even found himself joining in – to his eternal shame.

By the time they had arrived in Florida, Faith had convinced them that it would be no crummy motel for them for once. In fact, she went as far as insisting on staying in the big hotel on the beach, the one with the gazillion floors and the big, bean shaped pool. And Dean, following in his new pattern of doing the unpredicted, was the first one to agree, although he did insist on getting only one room because the prices were kind of extortionate.

As Dean checked them all in and handed over his fake credit card, Sam had the strangest suspicion that his insistence on getting only one room was more to do with being able to check up on Buffy during the night, rather than a worry over money.

It was perfect.

Everything was perfect. The weather, the hotel, the beach, the people, the surroundings, the demon free environment. It was all perfect.

In fact, it was the simple, carefree holiday that Buffy had always wanted but never quite managed to get – not since before she had been called as the slayer, anyway.

Yet Buffy was perfectly unhappy, though she refused to let it show.

And once again in the never ending circle that seemed to have become her life ever since the day he had barged into it, there was only one man responsible. One stupid, pig headed bastard of a man.

Dean friggin' Winchester.

And it wasn't even as if he was being his usual, argumentative self. That she could handle, quite easily in fact. And he wasn't being rude, either. Or a jerk, or arrogant, or purposely annoying.

He wasn't being anything. Anything at all.

At least not to Buffy.

And there was her problem. She was getting majorly pissed off.

This whole strange new act he had going on had begun right back when they had been watching that film together in the hospital. When it had finished he'd climbed off of her bed, rolling his eyes at the nurse's curt reminder that visiting hours had finished over fifteen minutes ago, and turned to look at Buffy for one long moment. There had been something unreadable in his usually expressive eyes, something inscrutable. But the moment had passed and without a word he had simply kissed her on the forehead and left.

The next day when he and Sam and Faith had arrived to collect Buffy and take her away from the hospital for good, she had noticed straight away that he wouldn't even look at her, let alone speak to her or even acknowledge her presence at all. Shrugging it off, Buffy had just assumed that he was in another famous Dean Winchester strop about something, probably something stupid like Faith using up the last of the syrup at breakfast. But after a while she'd realized that it was only her he was avoiding, and that he was being his usual self with both Faith and Sam. When she'd tried to question Dean about his strange attitude and whether or not she'd done something to upset him in some way, he'd just looked at her a little weirdly and shrugged her questions away, and he'd been going out of his way to avoid her ever since. Even when they were in the car together he would barely spare her a single glance, and once they'd arrived in Florida he'd make a point of leaving a room whenever she entered it.

She was confused. She didn't understand what she'd done wrong or why he had suddenly seemed to stop caring about her very existence, and it was hurting. It was hurting her much more than any argument they'd ever had and Buffy honestly wasn't sure how much more of it she could take.

He'd almost lost her.

It was true. If Dean had arrived at the hospital a mere couple of minutes later with Buffy, she would most likely have bled to death and then he'd have lost her. She'd be dead. The doctors had told him so themselves. He was sure at the time they had meant it reassuringly, and that they were trying to tell him that he'd saved her life in reacting so quickly, but to Dean, it had been an eyeopener. A big one.

He couldn't do it anymore, couldn't keep on...trying to get close to her. Hell, screw the trying part, they were closer than the pages in a closed book. He'd shared more with her than he'd ever done with Sam and his dad, and he was pretty sure she felt the same with him.

So that was what he was left with. Dean couldn't be close with Buffy, because in the end, he'd lose her.

And not even necessarily to death, though that was still a big, wide open possibility – no, probability. One day Buffy was going to realize that hunting – being on the road for hours and hours every day and slumming it in crappy motels with only him and Sam and Faith for company – wasn't the lifestyle she wanted after all, and then she'd go back home to her big fancy school and her crazy bunch of friends and he'd probably never see her ever again because she'd be far too busy to want to have anything to do with him. And while her being home was better than the whole her not being around at all thing, it would still leave him with a very sore heart in the end.

Down another road there was the whole 'her not being around at all thing'. She was a slayer, and led an even more dangerous life than that of a hunter. And yeah okay, she had Faith and all of them other slayers now, but she was the goddamned best. She was always going to be the best, right up until the day she died, and even then she'd be legendary. And as the best, Buffy was always going to be tossed unceremoniously into the deep end, hurled thoughtlessly at the biggest, meanest bad guys. What scared him the most was the thought that one day, he wasn't going to be there to watch her back.

Which is why he had come to the obvious conclusion that the best and only thing he could possibly do was to stay away from her. Distance himself from her both emotionally and physically and avoid all kinds of trouble in the process. Hell, she probably preferred it this way anyway. Any fool knew that if you got close to Dean Winchester, you were gonna end up getting hurt.

He'd even gone as far as deciding that the best possible thing he could do to get over her was to find and sleep with some other hot chick – one who was completely the opposite to Buffy in looks and personality. He was Dean Winchester, for God's sake! This was what he did! In fact, he couldn't honestly figure out why he hadn't done it sooner!

Faith was definitely out of the question – if he went through that door again there'd be even more complications than what he was dealing with now. And to be quite frank, he still wasn't even sure where they stood with each other right now. It was a situation he'd been doing his damned hardest to avoid.

And so that was how he found himself stuck in one of those hip-hoppy bars in Florida on one very warm night – it was the only place he knew that Sam, Faith and Buffy wouldn't bother to look for him in. Attracting a beautiful girl had been no problem for him – he hadn't lost his touch, thank God – and he soon found himself buying a fruity cocktail for Karen, a very sexy collage student. But when Karen smirked and placed a suggestive hand – a hand with long, pointy fingers instead of small and dainty – on Dean's thigh and shook her hair – her curly, brunette hair instead of shiny and blonde – over her shoulder in a way that could only be disguised as seductive, Dean suddenly realized that actually, he couldn't quite stomach the thought of sleeping with another woman, one who wasn't...her. And man if that didn't scare the mothering Jesus outta him.

So after trying and failing once more to be aroused by Karen – he gently brushed away her hand and made his excuses, before paying his bill and heading on back to the hotel.

For Karen, who had been expecting a thrilling night of passion with the sexy stranger, the whole episode had been decidedly disappointing.

But when Dean had arrived back at the hotel, the only person in the room to greet him had been Buffy, because apparently God – or fate, whatever – really did hate him. With his new found awareness of his inability to get it up for anyone who wasn't small, blonde and incredibly annoying still rattling around in his cluttered mind, he had simply turned and walked straight back out, pretending that he hadn't seen the hurt look covering her face. That night he swallowed a whole bottle of whiskey and passed out on one the deckchairs near the hotel pool.

But still he kept to his silent promise to stay away from her. It was just better off for everyone this way.

The 19th of January soon came around, and Buffy woke up to another birthday with the same feeling of dread she had become accustomed to over her years of being the slayer. As she relished another few moments of comfort in bed with her eyes squeezed tightly closed, the usual questions paraded through her mind. What kind of thing could possibly go wrong today? Demons? Zombies? Ghosts? Heartbreaking, life-altering events?

Her birthday was a freakin' curse.

When she had eventually resigned herself to the fact that she couldn't just spend the day hiding away underneath her bedsheets and had opened her eyes, she had been surprised to find that instead of the fiery pit of doom she had been expecting, she was met with a grinning Faith instead.

"Happy birthday, bitch!" Faith hollered laughingly at the top of her lungs, before hurling herself at Buffy's bed and covering the birthday girl in unbearable tickles.

Squealing in a mixture of indignation and delight, Buffy gave back as good as she got, thankful that the injury on her head had pretty much healed now and that she was able to do silly things like play-fight at all.

The fighting ceased some minutes later when Buffy trapped Faith in a headlock and only let her go once she called 'uncle'. As they rolled off of one another and onto their sides so that they were facing each other, they let out silly grins around their panting.

"It's your birthday," Faith declared eventually, observant as ever.

Buffy opened her mouth and widened her eyes in mock surprise. "You don't say!"

Ignoring Buffy's teasing, Faith waggled her eyebrows and announced proudly, "I bought you a gift and everything." She looked very impressed with herself.

"With all of that hard earned money you worked tirelessly for?"

"Hell yeah, angel-puss! Those guys I conned the other night were some smart little bastards. Muscles as hard as rock, too..." she added dreamily.

Grinning, Buffy bounced up and down on the mattress a little. "Okay, wipe away the drool. Where's my gift, you fiend?"

"Can't have it yet."

"What? Don't make me throw a tantrum on you! Want it, want it, want it, want-"

Faith chuckled and reached over to flick Buffy's ear. "Sam's making us do the whole birthday thing proper. Breakfast, gifts, other birthday stuff. That's where him and Dean are now, getting breakfast."

"Aww," Buffy cooed. "That's so sweet."

"Yeah, I guess. I think it's got something to do with the whole not getting to have real birthdays when they were kids thing. Sam told me that their old man hardly ever remembered so they had to make do by themselves. Makes me feel kinda bad, ya know? I mean, my mom mighta been a drunk but she always bought me a cake."

Buffy didn't quite know what to say. She felt sad, both for Faith and Sam and Dean. She remembered her own childhood birthdays. Her mom had always made them special, and even her dad, when he had still been around.

Seeing the expression on Buffy's face and guessing what her friend was thinking, Faith rolled her eyes and grinned toothily. "Don't feel bad for us, dopey. Look at what we've got now. Each other, right? All those times being a kid sucked is okay because this all makes up for it."

It was one of the nicest things Faith had ever said, and Buffy could only nod, dumbly.

"Right on." Faith ruffled Buffy's already sleep tousled hair and flopped back down on the bed.

"So Sam and Dean are out getting breakfast?"

"Sure are, little lady."

"Ooh, breakfast in bed." She looked up at the ceiling with raised eyebrows. "Hmm. Maybe today won't be so bad after all."

Faith looked confused. "What makes you think it could be bad? It's your birthday, girl!"

Buffy held up a hand so that she could begin counting on her fingers. "How about...the Judge, with an unhealthy side of Angelus? Or that really fun 'kill a helpless slayer' birthday game those nifty old watchers came up with? Oh, you know what was really fun? When Dawn found out she was the Key. That made my birthday bash really special. And getting trapped in my house – just blissful. And do you remember last year? With the bees?"

Both girls shuddered as they remembered the bees.

"Yeah," Faith said slowly, pulling a face. "I'd take an apocalypse over the bees any day."

Any further discussion about the bees was halted by the arrival of Sam and Dean, armed with breakfast and the smell of sunshine.

After setting his things down, Sam headed straight over for Buffy and enveloped her in a warm hug.

"Happy birthday," he said, beaming. He kissed her cheek and sat down next to her, one long arm still wrapped around her shoulders. He looked over at Dean – who was busy rooting through the bags of food – and coughed, pointedly.

Dean looked up, startled, as if he'd forgotten the others were even there. "Oh, yeah. Uh...happy birthday and...stuff," he grunted, before fishing a croissant out of a bag and flopping down onto the other bed.

Buffy ducked her head and looked down at her toes. So he was still being all avoidy with her, even on her birthday.

Maybe the day wouldn't turn out so great after all.

"Mm! That was absolutely the nicest, most fulfilling breakfast I've ever had," Buffy declared a while later, wiping her mouth exaggeratedly and rubbing her belly in satisfaction as she finished eating. "And look! All done. Now, don't I remember a certain someone telling me it would be gift time after breakfast?"

Faith chuckled, rolling her eyes but secretly just as excited. "Alright, alright. Man, you're impatient. We can give them to her now, can't we Sammy?"

Sam smiled at their childish behavior, it was really quite endearing. "Sure. I don't see why not.

Faith blew him a kiss and rolled over, bending over the edge of the bed and pulling a bag from underneath it. "I didn't wrap it," she explained unashamedly as she handed it over to Buffy. "Sam wanted me to, but I'm not a little housewife, ya know?"

Buffy shrugged and accepted the gift. "It's okay, I like the paper bag. Very 19th century."

"Funny. Now open it. Or...pull it out or whatever."

Buffy did as she was told, pulling out an extremely short looking red dress and a very large pair of matching high heeled shoes. She looked at the items dubiously – they were both shorter and higher than anything she'd ever attempted to wear before. "You've...signed me up for hooker training?" she asked hesitantly.

"Ha ha," Faith responded instantly. "Aren't you a little comedian tonight. These," She held the dress up against Buffy. "are for when I take you out on the town tonight. Trust me, you're gonna look awesomely hot."

"She's gonna look awesomely naked," Dean added, scowling fiercely at the skimpy garment. "Where the hell is the rest of that dress at anyway? You should take it back to the shop, Faith. I think they conned you."

Buffy frowned and pulled Faith's gift to her chest, annoyed that Dean would insult something Faith had clearly gone out of her way to buy. "Ignore him," she comforted. "I love them. And I'll definitely wear them tonight."

The pleased look on Faith's face was well worth it, as was the disgruntled look on Dean's.

"Mine next," Sam demanded playfully, pulling out two packages from where he'd stashed them in his sleeping bag on the floor. Both packages were neatly wrapped in pink paper, identical red bows tying them together.

"Friggin' girl," Dean muttered with a snort as he caught sight of them.

Sam ignored his brother – more than used to his comments by now – and handed the gifts to Buffy, who wasted no time in opening them up.

The first was an outrageously large quantity of chocolate – a gift that had Buffy squealing in delight. The second was a hand carved stake. The handle was made out of silver and was engraved with her name. It was clear that Sam had taken his time in making it.

"It's stupid," he professed shyly, looking down at the shoe he was scuffing against the floor. "But I didn't know what else to get you, and it seemed like a good idea when I was making it."

Buffy swatted his arm and held up his two gifts. "These are my two favoritest things in the whole wide world. I love them, you dope." She smiled and pulled him into a hug, kissing his cheek as she pulled away. "Thank you."

Dean looked away from the display, repeating to himself over and over in his mind that there was no need to be jealous. Sam and Buffy didn't feel that way about each other, he was sure of it.

The sound of Faith's voice broke Dean out of his inner turmoil. "Dean's turn," she sang.

He looked over at them, puzzled for a second, before finally remembering what they were in the middle of doing. "Oh," he said. "Yeah."

Quite clearly embarrassed, Dean reached inside of his jacket and pulled out a badly wrapped package from one of the inside pockets. "It's nothing special," he mumbled, throwing it carelessly over in Buffy's direction. "Just a bit of cheap junk."

That was a lie. Quite a big one, actually. Buffy's gift had cost Dean more than he'd like to remember. But the second he'd seen it as he'd been passing by some tiny, out of the way store over a month ago he hadn't been able to stop thinking about it. He'd purposely walked past the store at least another half a dozen times before finally going in and purchasing it. He'd been carrying it around in his pocket ever since, berating himself for being such a crazy fool when it came to her. He had debated just not giving it to Buffy at all and just pawning it off, but Faith had been nagging him about getting Buffy a birthday gift for the past week and at the time he'd been smug about the fact that he'd already gotten her one. Faith would kick his ass if she thought he'd been lying to her. And then there was the fact that he couldn't imagine anyone in the world owning this gift apart from Buffy, not now that he'd found it.

Buffy was surprised. With the way Dean had been acting around her lately, she hadn't expected anything off him at all. Slowly, she picked away at the sellotape with her thumbnail and unwrapped the gift. "Dean!" she gasped, as she pulled out the prettiest looking necklace she had seen in like...ever. "It's so beautiful!"

It was a simple, thin, silver chain, with an oval shaped gemstone the color of crystal. Throughout the gemstone narrow, black, jagged lines ran through it, like spilled ink.

As Buffy gaped over it in wonder, both Sam and Faith moved in for a closer look.

"Man, that's pretty nice," Sam said admiringly. "I've never seen anything like that before. It's quite unusual."

"It's a quartz," Dean explained gruffly. "Uh, a tourmaline in quartz or some crap like that. It's supposed to uhm...I mean, the old guy in the store said it means home." He looked right at Buffy, the first time he'd allowed himself to properly in almost a week. "It's supposed to remind you where home is."

Buffy and Dean watched each other for a long moment, something indescribable passing between them. It ended abruptly as Dean glanced away, fixing his eyes on the pattern in the wallpaper.

"Dean," Buffy uttered, standing up and moving over towards him. "This must have been so expensive. Thank you so-"

She was cut off when Dean, sensing that she was about to embrace him and fearing that it might break his resolve – rolled quickly off of the bed and sped over towards the door. "Gotta take a leak," he mumbled absentmindedly, before disappearing out of the room.

None left in the room felt it prudent to mention that he could have simply used the en-suite.

Buffy, who had paused mid step, lowered her head in confusion. She didn't understand him, and she didn't understand what was going on inside his head. How could he have given her such an amazing gift one minute and then dismissed her so callously in the next? She'd thought for a moment that perhaps she'd been wrong this past week and he did care about her, but maybe she'd been right about the whole thing after all.

There was no denying it, Buffy decided, as she looked herself up and down in the bathroom mirror once more. Though she'd had doubts about the outfit when Faith had first given in to her, now that it was on and she was all spruced up, she looked hot. Smoking hot, if she didn't say so herself.

As she'd been pulling the dress on, she had assumed that she'd look nothing more than a streetwalker – thank God she'd proved herself wrong. She looked just as sexy as Faith did when she wore these kinds of clothes.

With a happy grin, she turned and let herself back into the bedroom where the other three were waiting for her.

All of them looked up as she entered, and Faith let out a low, appreciative whistle. Sam's mouth dropped open in surprise, and Dean gulped audibly.

"You look hot, sister!" Faith cheered after a moments reflection. She nudged Sam with her elbow. "Don't she look hot?"

Sam nodded vigorously, and then blushed as he realized the implications of his actions. "I mean, you look pretty. Real pretty."

Faith scoffed. "Pretty my ass! You're a sex bomb, B! Hell, I'd do you!"

Dean thought he should probably say something too. Compliment her or whatever. But his brain wasn't really functioning all that well, and honestly, he had no words. He was too busy trying to fight off the need to throw her down on the bed and have his wicked way with her sexy little body. The dress she was wearing was even shorter than the one she'd worn on her pretend date with Sam, and the heels were even higher.

He didn't like it, he decided. It wasn't her. And she was absofuckinglutely gorgeous. Every other man that saw her was going to be all over her. And then he'd have to kill them.

"Dean?"

He shook free of dangerous thoughts, waking up to the fact that it was Faith's insistent voice calling his name, clearly asking for his opinion on what she was naming her 'masterpiece'. "Nice," he announced simply, before standing and slipping into his coat. "Come on, let's get outta here."

And for the second time that day, Dean walked out of the room leaving his three companions in silent disbelief.

Eventually, Faith was the one to break the silence. "Ignore his moody ass," she said, rolling her eyes. "You look awesome and you know it."

"I do know it," Buffy joked, although her heart wasn't really in it.

What was it going to take to stop Dean from being such an ass with her? And why the hell did she even care so damned much anyway?

"Whoa! Slow down, apricot!" Faith yelled over the loud sound of pounding music as Buffy downed her fourth consecutive shot. She might have let it go had Buffy not been guzzling the drinks ever since she had arrived in the nightclub.

Buffy waved a dismissive hand and drank her final shot. "I'm having a good time!" she slurred. "It's my birthday! Supposed to be wild, remember? I'll slow down once we've gotten back to the hotel."

"Carry on drinking this fast and we'll be carrying your unconscious butt back to the hotel over our shoulders."

Ignoring her, Buffy signaled the bartender and ordered another beer.

Truth was, Buffy was more drinking to forget than to have a good time.

Drinking to forget that Dean clearly didn't want anything to do with her anymore, forget that it was her birthday and therefore she was getting older, forget that one day probably soon she was going to have to give up this amazing new lifestyle and go on back home to her responsibilities, and forget that Dean was on the other side of the room, flirting outrageously with a very sexy redhead.

Yeah, she thought, as she gulped down her beer while watching the redhead run a hand over Dean's arm,tonight's definitely all about the forgetting.

Finally! Dean cheered internally as he finally managed to extract his self from the annoying redhead that had been clinging on to him for the past half an hour. Becky might have had a nice rack on her, and it had been fun flirting with her for the first five minutes, but she had absolutely nothing going on conversation wise.

He stopped mid step on the way to the bar and shook his head is disbelief. Since when did Dean Winchesterrequire a girl to have half a brain on her before he'd even consent to spending any time with her?

Apparently since he'd become completely whipped by a girl who was far, far out of his league and had absolutely no idea that she was all he ever thought about or that he kind of adored her.

He wondered what she'd say if she did know. If he told her.

She'd probably be disgusted. Or she'd laugh. Or she wouldn't care at all.

Or...

Maybe she wouldn't.

Because sometimes, Dean got the giddiest feeling inside of him when he looked at her, because often, she was looking at him right back. And when she was, there was a certain something in her eyes that made his heart beat faster, something that really made him believe...

He got the feeling that when he thought about her, maybe she thought about him too. And not in the normal way you think about somebody you spend a great deal of time with. But in a way that was...more.

He puffed out his chest. He was gonna tell her. Maybe because he'd had a few more beers than he usually did and so he was feeling extra confident, or maybe because he wasn't sure how much longer he could go onwithout telling her. He was going to do it, get it over with, because finding out how she really felt couldn't make him feel any worse than the way he was always feeling right now, could it?

But first he had to find her.

She'd been dancing with Faith ten minutes ago. He knew that for certain because he'd been unable to drag his eyes away from her and Bailey, or Becky, or whatever her name was had been getting increasingly annoyed with the lack of focus on herself. But a quick search of the dance floor was enough to make certain that they were no longer there.

But it didn't take him long to find out where they had gone, and as soon as he saw them propped up against the bar he headed straight over.

Faith was the first to see him approach, and as she did her eyes widened in what looked like apprehension and he saw her mouth 'uh oh' to herself. He frowned at this, wondering what the problem could possibly be.

As he got closer, and he was able to see them fully, he finally realized exactly what was wrong.

Buffy and Faith were not alone.

They were with two guys. One of them sat behind Faith – clearly forgotten about by the look of disgruntlement on his face as Faith watched worriedly over her friend – and the other sat under Buffy, his hands around her waist as she perched on his lap.

One thing was clear to Dean – Buffy was clearly very, very drunk.

He watched as the asshole Buffy was practically fucking right there at the bar slid his slimy little hand up her thigh. A burning fury built up inside him as he saw her giggle drunkenly in response.

Storming over with his hands clenched, he ignored Faith's calm "Dean, back off. I've got this under control." and grabbed a hold of Buffy's arm and pulled her away from her boy toy.

"Hey!" Buffy screeched crossly. "What in God's name do you think you're doing you...you...you big moron?"

Dean rolled his eyes. No way was he about to get into an argument with her when she could barely even get her words out. "I'm taking you back to the hotel. You've had too much to drink."

Buffy's 'date' looked between the two of them, a little line appearing between his eyebrows. "You didn't say you had a boyfriend!" he directed at her accusingly. He glanced over at Dean and held up his hands. "Hey pal, she never said she had a boyfriend."

"Ew! He's not my boyfriend!" Buffy's protests were so loud that several nearby patrons turned around to stare at her.

The man behind Faith, clearly deciding that he'd had enough, huffed and stood up. "Come on, Leon. Let's get outta here. This ain't worth our time."

Leon held a hand up to stop his friend. "Now hang on a minute, Joe. Buffy here says this guy ain't her boyfriend and she clearly don't wanna go with him." He turned to Dean. "So how's about you unhand her and I'll let you walkaway with no bruises."

The idea that this idiot could harm Dean in any way was laughable. So laughable in fact, that Dean actually guffawed in his face. "Man, I could snap your neck in half before you even took a step."

There was something in Dean's eyes, something dark, and Leon, though dimwitted, obviously saw it, because he began backing away.

"He means it, Leon," Faith told him, doing her best to hide her amusement. "He's done it before."

"Joe's right," Leon said gruffly. "This ain't worth our time. Come on Joe, we're going."

Buffy, who had been too busy trying not to sway on her feet to pay attention, looked around and realized that her new friends were no longer around. "You dumb-ass!" she said hotly to Dean. "I was having fun with Lee! Why'd you make him leave?"

"His name was Leon. And he was only gonna take advantage of the fact that you're piss drunk. Now stop being an idiot and let me take you back to the-"

"First of all, I'm not an idiot!" she slurred. "And fourth of all...I'm not drunk." And then she fell over.

Which was how not ten minutes later Dean, both brassed off and amused, found himself carrying an unconscious Buffy in his arms as he made his way back to the hotel. He was walking slowly, not because of the extra weight because really, the girl weighed freakin' nothing, but because he was enjoying being able to hold her for just a few precious moments, even if she was passed out from drinking too much to know about it. Both Faith and Sam – who they'd found eventually taking part in an animated discussion with a plump girl about chemistry or some crap like that – had offered to accompany him, but Dean had told them to stay behind and enjoy themselves. They hadn't put up too much of an argument.

Unfortunately, the walk back to the hotel wasn't a long one, and as Dean walked into the lobby he rolled his eyes in amusement at the clerk, who chuckled along with him when Buffy began to mumble incoherently in her sleep.

Once he'd reached their floor, he opened the door awkwardly, moving straight over to the bed to lay her gently down. Quietly as he could, he slipped off her shoes and debated for a moment over taking off her uncomfortably tight looking dress in exchange for her pajamas, but in the end thought better of it. She may have a hangover the next morning, but it wouldn't stop her from kicking his ass if she thought for one moment he'd taken advantage of her drunken state for a good eyeful.

So instead, he collected a glass of water and some paracetamol and left them on the table by her bed where she'd be able to reach them easily the following morning. After he'd tucked her in, he moved over to the edge of the bed, content to just sit and watch her sleep for a while. The heavy dark makeup around her eyes had smudged and her lipstick was now just a faint reminder and her hair was a wild mess. She was the prettiest girl he'd ever seen.

"Dean," she mumbled, and for one heart stopping moment he thought she had awoken and caught him watching her. But her eyes were still closed, and it was clear she was still asleep.

"Yeah, princess?" he asked, smiling fondly.

"Make sure you get it."

"Get what?"

"The one with the yellow tail. Gotta get the one with the yellow tail."

"Okay," he answered, wondering what on earth she was dreaming about. "I'll get it."

"Gotta get it," she repeated, before shifting over and settling back down in her sleep.

Dean sighed and shook his head, cursing his bad luck. The first – and most likely only – time he'd worked up his stupid courage to tell her how he felt about her, she had to go and pass out on him. Perhaps this was fate's way of telling him that they just weren't meant to be. He couldn't ever imagine another moment to tell her coming up again. Not while she was awake, anyway.

"You know something," he said softly to her sleeping form. "I was gonna tell you tonight. Tell you that I'm mad about you. Tell you that the reason I act so damned crazy around you all the time is just 'cause I want you to be my girl." He shook his head at how much of a chick he sounded. "Maybe in another lifetime, huh? When neither of us have to save the world all the freakin' time."

The only response he received was a soft, little snore.

Carefully, so as not to disturb her, he leaned forwards and placed the gentlest of kisses on her soft lips. It felt like both the happiest and the saddest day of his life. He lingered for as long as he dared, before pulling away to wipe a few stray strands of hair from her forehead. He smiled as he traced the thin chain of his necklace, laying around her neck. It made him warm inside to think that she liked it enough to wear it.

With one last lingering look, Dean slowly slipped out of the room.


	23. Chapter 23

His

The still water was cool and serene as the man floated on it. His eyes were closed against the rays of the bright sun, and he was barely aware of his surroundings, so at peace as he was.

Usually very assertive, he didn't notice the shape closing in from beneath him in the water.

"Arghh!" Sam yelled, as Buffy yanked the lilo from underneath his body.

Rising to the surface and spitting out water, Sam couldn't help but laugh as he watched Buffy giggle, barely able to keep on treading water as she tried to control herself.

As Dean's birthday occurred only five days after Buffy's, the foursome had decided to stay on in Florida just a little longer. Dean had said that it wasn't necessary, but the others had made their minds up, deciding to spend his birthday here in the sun rather than on a hunt, as he'd never really had a proper birthday before. He had tried to pretend that it didn't matter to him either way at first, but as the day arrived, it was only too obvious how grateful and touched he really was.

Just like on Buffy's birthday, he was awoken first with breakfast, and then gifts. From Faith he received a wicked looking dagger, Sam a book on cars and a cool set of knives disguised as pens. From Buffy, however, he received a travel mug with his name on it, a charm to wrap around his ankle and a mini car fridge that belched whenever opened.

"I think you're supposed to plug it into the car cigarette lighter," Buffy explained with an embarrassed giggle, gesturing to the fridge. "I know it's kinda dumb, but you're always so hungry when we're on the road so it seemed perfect for you. You won't have to stop so often to grab a bite to eat." She ducked her head, hiding a blush. She knew it wasn't the greatest gift in the world, but she'd put a lot of thought into it and she really hoped he liked it.

Dean didn't like it...he loved it. He worked hard to hold in his grin, not wanting her to see how much he loved it. Her gifts were the greatest, and just so typical Buffy. Also, it was probably the first gift he'd ever received that had absolutely nothing to do with hunting, and that made it all the more touching. She saw him as a person, with needs, not just a hunter.

"Thanks," he offered gruffly, dropping the gifts on his bed and turning away. His actions were a complete contrast to his thoughts and feelings.

Buffy, who had been hoping that he might soften up a little today, sighed in acceptance and annoyance. She couldn't believe that he was still keeping up this act of ignorance.

She had hoped that after her birthday and after he had looked after her – not that she remembered, but Faith had filled her in on the gaps that she had drunkenly forgot – that he might have gone back to normal. Apologized for being such a jerk and had a joke with her about what an awful drunk she was.

But if anything, he was behaving worse than ever.

Unlike on Buffy's birthday, Dean wanted to go nowhere near the kind of crazed nightclub that they had gone to last time. He was happy instead with his choice of a quiet, low key bar, and as he was the birthday boy, that is where they went.

The only complaint for this came of course from Faith, but even that was halfhearted and lasted less than a minute.

Finishing her – non alcoholic – drink and noticing that Dean was nearing the end of his beer, Buffy stood up and grabbed her purse. "My round," she announced to the table. "Same again, birthday boy?"

Without even looking up from his conversation with Sam, Dean shook his head and waved a dismissive hand. "Nah, I'm good."

Buffy frowned as she regarded him. "But you've almost finished your drink. Do you want something else instead?"

"I said I'm good," he snapped in response.

Buffy bit back the hurt his attitude towards her was causing. "Okay," she replied in a small voice. "Anyone else want anything?"

Embarrassed on Buffy's behalf, both Sam and Faith gave Buffy their orders, and turned to stare at Dean when she left for the bar.

"What?" he asked offhandedly, as if he didn't know.

Buffy had only been at the bar a minute and had just made her order when she felt someone come up besides her.

She could tell it was Dean even before she turned to look at him.

"I'll have a beer, please," he said pleasantly to the available barmaid.

With an open mouth, Buffy turned to stare at him in confusion. Hadn't she just offered to buy him a drink not two minutes ago? And he had said no, and now he was up here ordering himself a drink. Did she really disgust him so much that he couldn't even accept a drink from her now?

He could feel her watching him, but Dean didn't even spare Buffy a glance. Instead her threw a flirty wink in the barmaid's direction when she caught his eye.

Feeling her heart take that familiar plummet, Buffy quickly paid for her drinks and hurried them back over to their table, setting them down in front of Sam – because Faith had taken off somewhere – and grabbing up her jacket.

"You going somewhere?" Sam asked.

Buffy ignored him, slipping on her jacket and heading towards the exit. She had to get out of there before Dean's obvious dislike of her made her break down entirely.

The second Buffy had walked away from Dean and back over to their table, a smirking Faith had popped up at Dean's side. "Hey, baby-face," she sad teasingly. "How's about getting me nice and drunk and taking advantage of me?"

"What?" Dean asked distractedly, watching Buffy pick up her jacket and wondering what she was doing.

"I said there's another gift waiting for you back at the hotel room," Faith purred, oblivious to his distraction. "I know it's been a while, but why don't we head on back so you can unwrap it." She ran her hands over her body seductively and licked her red lips.

Any other man would have whipped her up and thrown her over his shoulder right then, salivating as he took her back to his bedroom as fast as his little eager little legs could carry him, but Dean didn't even hear her, much less acknowledge her words.

He watched – his heart filling up with shame – as an upset looking Buffy left the bar. He knew without a doubt that he was the cause for her misery. He'd taken it too far this time, he knew it. She'd put up with his attitude ever since they'd left the hospital, and so he'd just kept on pushing. Well, it looked to him like he'd just crossed over the line.

Without even looking at the drink the barmaid had just put down next to him, Dean threw some cash down on the bar and moved towards the doors, intending on following after Buffy. In his haste, he completely brushed off Faith, forgetting she was even there, forgetting everything except for the hurt look upon Buffy's face. As he left the bar, he didn't even remember to pick up the jacket he had left at the table with Sam.

Just as the bar door had swung shut behind him, he found his progress halted when he was yanked back by the strong hand that grabbed a hold of his arm and span him around.

"How long are you gonna keep chasing after her for when I'm right here?" Faith yelled when Dean was facing her. Neither of them needed to specify exactly who 'her' was.

Dean opened his mouth to speak, although what he'd say he had no idea. But before any words could materialize inside his mind his heart gave a painful thud and reminded him that he was wasting time and that if he didn't follow Buffy now he wouldn't be able to find her and then maybe it would be too late. He looked down in the direction of the empty road he assumed she'd taken, and then back at Faith. "I'm sorry," he said truthfully, before pulling away his arm and turning away from her.

Faith watched him jog away, her nostrils flaring and a suspicious burning causing the back of her throat to ache. Blinking, she turned and slammed her way back into the bar.

After a couple of minutes of heading down the same road, Dean eventually came across a cemetery. He remembered how Buffy had once told him that cemeteries held some strange sense of comfort for her, and knew without a doubt that this was where she had gone.

He wasn't wrong. Once he had climbed over the locked gate, it only took him a moment to spot her walking up ahead. "Buffy!" he called loudly, jogging to catch up with her.

Surprisingly, she stopped as soon as she heard his voice and quickly twirled around to face him. Dean was very ashamed to see tears in her pink rimmed eyes.

"Why are you always following me?" she demanded loudly, her voice a little hoarse.

He shook his head blankly and opened and closed his mouth a couple of times. "I can't help it," was his simple answer, finally.

Buffy huffed in frustration and sniffed back some tears. "Fine! Be the cryptic answer guy! At least tell me why you're being such a jerk to me! You can do that, right?"

At the sound of her raised voice, Dean lost any composure he might have had left. He lost that final strand of sanity he'd been holding onto ever since he'd met her. "I almost lost you!" he shouted back, throwing his arms into the air as he gave up. "You fell down and there was blood and it was your blood and I almost lost you!"

That hadn't been what Buffy had been expecting at all. Far from it, actually. The two stood in a heavy silence for long moments as they both tried to absorb what he had just admitted. Buffy's heart was beating faster in shock.

Eventually, Dean was the first to make any kind of movement. He sighed in annoyance as he looked off at a space over Buffy's shoulder. "So much for a demon free holiday," he grumbled.

Turning, Buffy also spotted the ill timed vampire, and stalked straight towards him as he approached her.

"Sorry to interrupt this lovers tiff," he said, his voice soft with amusement. "But I am hungry, and I do so love when the blood is pumping harder, much like yours is."

Buffy had no time or patience for witty banter trades. She could have easily staked him straight away – for all his talk it was clear that he wasn't that old or skilled – but the satisfaction she received after punching him in the face the first time was enough incentive to make her carry on beating on him, somewhat viciously. Her mind blanked out as she sent punch after kick his way, her attack to brutal for him to do anything but try and defend himself.

When the vampire dropped to the floor, unconscious, this probably should have been some sort of signal for Buffy to stop her attack and stake him already, but instead she simply dropped down to crouch over him, continuing her crazed attack of punches.

Finally, her mind stopped being so blank and she began to think again, but this did nothing except spur her on. She cried out in anguish as she tried to beat away her frustrations – the way she felt about Dean, the fact that as hard as she tried it just wouldn't go the hell away, how wrong her damned feelings were anyway and what a bitch she was because she was clearly betraying Faith by even having these thoughts.

Dean, stood only a couple of feet away, watched Buffy completely lose control with something approaching horror, hating himself intensely for being the one to cause this. "Buffy," he said, in a quiet, controlled voice. "Stake it. Just stake the vampire."

He wasn't even sure his voice would get through to her, but by the way she gradually stopped her attack and ducked her head, it clearly had.

With slumped shoulders, Buffy finally staked the blood soaked vampire, falling back on to her heels when the deed was done. It was only then that she realized that hot tears were pouring down her cheeks.

Stepping over to her purposefully, Dean bent down and pulled her up by her arms to make her stand, desperate to offer her any kind of comfort.

But Buffy – far too gone and far too enraged – didn't want comfort from him, she wanted nothing from him. With an angry sob, she pushed him away so that he stumbled backwards and went to throw her fist in the direction of his face. But her eyes were so blinded by tears that her aim was way off and Dean was easily able to duck out of the way and grab her fist out of the air and wrap it in his own.

Neither moved for uncountable seconds, both too caught up in a moment that they had no idea how to stop. The world was silent around them – no rustle of the grass, no hiss of the wind, no shuffle of the wildlife. There was nobody else in the entire universe but the two of them, no other feeling except that of electricity, scalding their skin as it sent little sparks down their arms from where their fingers touched.

Of course they'd touched before, but it had never held quite the same weight as it did right now.

Slowly, Dean moved his wrist and spread out Buffy's hand to entwine their fingers, clasping their hands together tightly. His heart was beating hard and fast as he recognized that this was most definitely the moment he had been waiting for ever since Faith had shown him the picture of Buffy way back during the Bloody Mary case. He wondered whether Buffy's own heart was beating just as furiously, and almost imagined he could feel it.

Looking into her eyes, still sparkling from the tears that had now stopped, he moved forwards, bringing their bodies together until they were touching, from breast down to crotch. Without a word, he walked her backwards a mere few paces, until her back was pressed firmly up against a mausoleum wall.

Dean leaned his forehead against Buffy's, closing his eyes and breathing in deeply through his nose. When his eyes reopened, there was such a look of excitement and fierce determination in them that Buffy felt herself go hot all over. She barely had time to gasp before Dean had brought his mouth down on hers to kiss her furiously. There wasn't a single thought in her mind about rejecting his advances. This was right. Him and her together were just right. Their mouths locked together and she wrapped her spare arm around his neck, pulling him even closer towards her.

Dean ripped his mouth away and began to nibble on the side of her jaw. "You drive me crazy," he panted in-between kisses. "Have done ever since the day we met. Before that. Absolutely freakin' crazy."

Letting go of her hand, he grasped her head between the two of his, threading his fingers through her hair and kissing her forehead. "I almost lost you," he choked out, kissing her nose. "Almost lost you." Her cheeks. "Almost lost you." Her eyelids. "Lost you." Her jaw.

By this time, his own uncontrollable tears were falling, mixing in with the salt trains her own tears had left on her cheeks, and he was finding it increasingly difficult to breathe.

And that's when Buffy knew. She knew that the next move was hers, and she knew that once she made it her life was never going to be the same again. Dean had that, that ability to change it, and she was pretty sure it would be for the better, despite the consequences. She reached up and grabbed a hold of his cheeks, pushing his face back an inch so that she could look into his eyes.

"You didn't lose me," she breathed. "I'm right here." And then she pulled his lips firmly back on hers.

It was all they needed to let go, and for passion to consume them.

As their tongues battled, Dean pushed forwards so that Buffy was pushed hard against the wall, and he was pushed hard against her. Her feet were lifted up off the ground, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, moaning as he pressed his jeans covered erection into her crotch. Her hands moved lower and pushed up his t-shirt so that she could run her fingers over the hard lines of his chest, and as they moved higher, she could feel his heart beating underneath her palm.

Taking a much needed gulp of air as he felt Buffy's soft fingers trace his skin, Dean quickly moved one of his hands from where they were supporting her to fumble with the buttons on her jeans. When his object was complete, they struggled together to pull off her jacket, neither willing to part from each other, even for a second. Finally yanking it off, Dean threw it carelessly to the floor behind him while Buffy made a start on trying to free him from his belt. But her fingers were shaking too much to control them enough to get the little clasp undone, and in a bout of frustration she yanked on the belt, ripping it in half.

Dean stopped kissing her neck for a moment to look at her in surprise. "That was the hottest thing I ever saw," he said with a wolfish grin, before capturing her mouth in his own again.

Ripping open his jeans buttons, Buffy used her thigh to push them down to his knees. This time when he pressed into her sex, only his underwear covered his erection and the feel of his hardness against her made her gasp audibly.

Dean groaned as she rubbed herself against him shamelessly.

He wanted to touch her. Touch her all over and make her feel it time and time again, but both knew there was no time. No time for anything but raw desire.

Dean pulled down Buffy's jeans, using his knee and then his foot to get them all the way down. She kicked off one shoe and pushed the jeans off of one of her legs, so that they hung loosely from the other. She pressed her forehead against his as she pushed down his shorts, smiling in triumph when she was finally able to take a hold of him in her hand. She gulped. He was big, hard and hot and she felt a throb of desire and anticipation as he pulsed in her hand.

As Buffy stroked him, Dean tried to control his pants, but it was difficult when she was touching him, finally. It was amazing, and sexy, and beautiful, and every single good thing in the entire world. It was heaven. He thrust into her hand and squeezed his eyes closed as she tightened her grip.

Reopening them when he was better able to control himself, he looked down, slightly perturbed that she was still more clothed than he was. He loved her underwear, he really did. It was skimpy and pretty and girly and red – which if he had to chose a favorite color would probably be it – and withing a second had been ripped in two by his eager hands and tossed to the ground.

And then there was nothing more keeping them apart. No more clothes, no more barriers.

Holding his breath and keeping his eyes locked onto hers, Dean lifted Buffy up and slid her down onto his hard length.

"Hoh God," he sighed, as he filled her up and she covered him in her warmth.

Neither moved for the longest time, too overcome by new sensations. Obviously they had both had sex with other people before, but – and maybe it was just because they had both wanted each other for so long, or maybe it was because deep down they new that they had been made for one another – it had never felt like this before. Never felt so perfect, so right, so complete, so totally and utterly heavenly.

Pressing his damp forehead against hers, Dean slowly began to move, pulling himself out of her and back in again. Out and in, out and in. In and out.

Once again, Buffy wrapped her legs around him, her thighs squeezing at his hips. She clung onto his shoulder with one hand, and with the other she grasped at the wall so as to steady herself.

She'd known Dean was big in the downstairs department. She'd been able to tell all those times they'd slept in the same room and he'd paraded around in just a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. But as he filled her up inside, big took on a whole new meaning. He seemed to fill her every spot, and she imagined he'd been made just for her. Her muscles tightened around him as this thought warmed her heart, and she whispered it to him in his ear.

"I was," Dean promised, letting out a pleasured grunt as she squeezed him. "I was made for you. Only for you. And you for me." He began to quicken his pace, and pushed into her harder and deeper than before, causing Buffy's breath to hitch and her eyesight to blur.

She tightened her legs around him, moving with him and encouraging him to go even faster. Dean didn't disappoint.

The cemetery around them was silent, the only noise to be heard was their matching gasps and pants and a dull thudding sound as Buffy's back was repeatedly slammed into the mausoleum wall. She'd most likely be bruised the next day, she knew that, but she didn't care a single bit. In fact, with each bang and dull thud of pain, she only felt her pleasure mounting.

Neither cared that they were out in the open and not so far from the gates leading out into the public. Anyone could be watching, anyone could catch them, but they were far too caught up in each other to even recognize this.

Needing to touch her, Dean slipped one of his hands underneath her shirt and bra to caress her soft skin, brushing his thumb over her nipple and softly squeezing her breast in his palm.

Buffy cried out in ecstasy and her head dropped back against the wall. Removing her hand from his shoulder, she slid it under his t-shirt and over his back, her nails scratching at his skin and leaving pink tracks along his shoulder blades.

Dropping her head forwards again, she rested her forehead on Dean's shoulder and whispered "Harder," to him.

Dean complied, the sound of her voice in his ear causing wonderful shivers to race playfully over his skin. He was panting, never before having gone so hard or fast with any woman, not even the rougher ones. It was fucking fantastic. Later on he'd muse that he'd never even taken Faith so hard, but she was far from his mind right at that moment.

His thrusts became stronger, and his grunts became louder each time he filled her, each time he entered her right to the hilt. He wanted more than anything to make this last forever, and he promised himself next time it would – because dammit there would be a next time, even if he had to move heaven and earth to accomplish it – but being inside her for the first time just felt so good, and he needed her so much. Moving his hand from her breast to where they were joined, he used his skilled fingers to manipulate her clit, rubbing and pinching and causing Buffy to wail out her bliss. Her movements against him became wilder and harsher, and her eyes turned glassy as her pants and moans grew louder. The dizzy sensation of pleasure grew inside of her, bigger and wider and straining at the seams until finally it exploded and Buffy cried out, squeezing Dean even harder with her muscles as bright stars flashed before her eyes.

It was only as she was coming down that she realized that Dean was still moving inside of her, and she leaned forwards to rest her face on his neck. She inhaled his scent – a mix of aftershave and beer and the slight, salty aroma of sweat – and she couldn't resist biting down on his neck, touching her tongue to his skin to see if he tasted as good as he smelt. He did.

The feel of her teeth nibbling on his neck was all it took for Dean to follow her over the edge and into oblivion.

"Holy shit!" he cried out, his voice deep and hoarse. He came with a final thrust. As he shot his seed into her, he continued to pump a few more times, until he was completely spent and his thrusts began to slow down, finally stopping altogether.

As their minds began to clear and they were able to think rationally again, both slowly became stunned over what had just happened, although neither made any effort to move. They weren't even sure they could if they wanted to.

Eventually, Dean was the first to shift. He rested his forehead against hers, liking the way that their breaths mingled as they panted together.

Still joined, the pair slid slowly down the mausoleum wall and onto the floor. Dean knew they should move, at least somewhere more private, but as he pulled her down to lay with him on the floor and she rested her head on his outstretched arm, he found he just didn't have the will to do so. He pulled her closer so that they were entwined and kissed her languidly, letting his tongue run slowly over hers, exploring her mouth more intimately than he had given himself time for before. Breaking away, Buffy began to place soft, sweet kisses along his neck. She paused at the spot she had bitten earlier and sucked on it gently.

Dean felt himself began to harden again inside her already, and with a toothy grin, he rolled them over so that he was on top of her.

Before he began to move once more, he took a moment to look down at her. Mussed hair, flushed cheeks, swollen lips, thoroughly sexed up. This was the only place he ever wanted to be. Here, with her. Nothing else mattered at that moment. Not the demon, not his father, not even the whole damned world.

Nothing mattered but her.


	24. Chapter 24

Best Birthday Ever

It was an unspoken agreement between the pair that they take the long route in their journey back to the hotel. Not down the main-street as they had taken when leaving the bar, but the roads through the local neighborhood – the pretty ones, with those annoying trees lining the pavements and all that other homely kind of stuff.

As it was clearly a family neighborhood – Dean had even spotted a gnome in one garden, for Christ's sake – the streets were empty at this time of night, and he and Buffy found themselves walking down the center of the road with no interference from cars.

Dean's arm was slung casually around Buffy's shoulder, just like he'd seen other guys do to their girls, and hers was wrapped firmly around his waist. She was leaning against him and the intimacy of the situation made Dean glow inside, which was crazy because he'd always mocked the idiots who acted all coupley in public before. Maybe he'd been jealous? Nah. Far more likely it was just Buffy's influence that was making him feel like maybe this wasn't such a dumb thing to do after all.

He silently cursed himself for leaving his jacket behind at the bar. It wasn't cold, but he wished he had it so that he could offer to let her wear it. She'd look cute in something so huge for her and it seemed like the gentlemanly thing to do. And Buffy sorta made him want to act like a gentleman, in an 'I want to rip your clothes off and ravish you until you can't move,' kind of way.

He looked down at her face. She was staring at the ground and biting her lip, looking troubled, and Dean was pretty sure he knew why. Now that they weren't acting like crazed, lusty, hormone controlled teenagers and were actually able to think almost clearly again, the guilt was slowly starting to creep in. He knew that when Sam, and especially Faith, found out about what they'd done there was going to be trouble, but he was just too busy being insufferably happy right now to really give a rat's ass.

Dean's estimations on where Buffy's thoughts were at were pretty spot on. She was feeling guilty. Guilty about how what had just happened might hurt Faith, and guilty that no matter how guilty she felt she couldn't quite manage to tear herself away from Dean's embrace. She was simply content to hold him right now, just be close to him while they walked, and she was pretty sure he felt the same way too. She'd allow the real guilt to take over later.

She glanced up into his face, starting a little in surprise when she realized he was sporting a giant, shit eating grin. "What are you looking so cheery about?" she asked, her tone laced with amusement. The sound of her voice seemed almost alien to the pair of them, it being the first noise they'd made since leaving the cemetery.

He shrugged in reply and pulled her closer to him, kissing the top of her head. "Nothing much. Just...best birthday ever. Ya know, stuff."

Buffy felt her entire insides warm right up at his answer, and she smiled delightedly. "Really?"

Dean nodded, waggling his eyebrows up and down and grinning rakishly. He turned their bodies around to face each other and walked her backwards a couple of paces, onto the pavement and against one of those not quite so annoying anymore neighborhood trees. Angling his head down towards hers, he gave her what he had intended to be a quick kiss, but was soon something a whole lot more passionate. One of his hands buried themselves into her knotted hair, and the other grabbed a hold of her butt to pull her closer.

As Buffy's welcomed his tongue into her mouth, her own hands were making quick work of exploring every little inch of Dean that she could reach, and when he made that small moaning noise at the back of his throat when she ran her nails up the sides of his chest underneath his shirt, it made her tummy tingle deliciously.

Neither could get enough of the other, and both were very much willing to admit that, if only in their actions.

Another twenty minutes – and seven stops for smoochies and serious groping – later, they finally arrived back at the hotel. They were like a pair of giggling teenagers as they stumbled together into the darkened room, thankful that neither Faith nor Sam had arrived back from the bar just yet.

It was when Buffy switched on the light that the whole atmosphere changed. Now fully able to see one another, they stepped awkwardly into the center of the room, unintentionally keeping at least two feet apart. And the distance wasn't only physical, either. It was as if the bright, sudden light of the hotel room had brought things home to them abruptly, made their actions more real. Both opened and closed their mouths, desperate to find something to say to fill the embarrassing silence.

Buffy was finding that even though they'd swapped saliva and he'd been inside her not an hour before, she couldn't quite manage to look Dean in the eye. She felt bad, and she felt awkward in a way she hadn't felt since her first time with Angel. She was pretty sure that it was because what she and Dean had just done meant something, really meant something. She hadn't felt that in a long time. She gave herself a mental shake – she was being ridiculous! She wasn't a teenager anymore, she was a grown adult, and the least she could do was look into the eyes of the man she had just had sex with.

Okay, so maybe she'd just build up to it, starting with his boots. And his jeans. His very, very mud scuffed jeans. And his very, very mud scuffed t-shirt. In fact, he was mud scuffed all over, and Buffy blushed when she realized she must look just as bad.

"So I'm gonna go take a shower," she announced, finally breaking that unbearable silence.

Dean nodded, and watched as she stepped over to the bathroom door. She paused for a moment, before turning to face him, the ghost of a seductive smile brightening up her face. "Wanna join me?"

He was across the room in two strides. "Man, this birthday just keeps on getting better and better," was his excited reply as he scooped up a squealing Buffy into his arms and walked her into the bathroom.

Dean laughed as she playfully swatted at his arms, insanely glad that the tension that had creeped up on them so easily not moments ago had been so quickly batted away.

Depositing Buffy to perch herself uncomfortably on the sink, he moved over and pulled back the shower curtain, switching it on so as to give it time to heat up. When he turned back, Buffy was watching him and biting her lip alluringly. He smirked and moved over to her, his movements quick and swift like a predator.

"This time I get to undress you properly," he said, beaming. "Baby-girl, you have no idea how long I've dreamed of doing exactly that."

"I hope that's not where the dream ended."

"Oh, hell no!"

Saying nothing else and never taking her eyes off of Dean's, Buffy slid off her jacket and tossed it to the floor, before reaching her arms up into the air.

It was an unspoken request, and Dean certainly didn't need any help understanding. Stepping in between her parted legs, he slipped his fingers underneath the bottom of her shirt and slid them up the soft skin of her waist, pulling the shirt up along with them. He took his time, reveling in the feeling of finally being able to touch her without having to pretend to knock into her or whatever other flimsy excuses he'd come up with in the past.

Once her shirt was off and discarded who knew where, he knelt down before her, his mouth at the perfect height to place a gentle kiss on her bellybutton. He slowly lifted himself up, leaving a trail of sweet kisses over her abdomen until he reached her bra. With a wicked grin, he reached one hand behind Buffy's back and had the material unclasped in less than a second.

"Impressive," purred Buffy, beckoning him closer after shaking the garment off.

"Sweetheart, you have no idea."

Wrapping her legs around his waist and using them to pull him closer, Buffy dragged up Dean's own t-shirt over his head, baring his oh so yummy chest. She ran her nails lightly over his stomach and was pleased when he leaned his head back and closed his eyes in pleasure. Loosening her legs, she unclasped his jeans – glad that this time there was no belt to struggle with – and giggled charmingly when he wiggled his butt to make them fall down.

Right then, Dean decided that that was his most favorite sound in the whole world, and that he'd act like a freakin' clown every day for the rest of his life to keep on making her laugh like that if he had to. Only...not right now, 'cause he was tryna sex her up.

So off came his boots and socks, quickly followed by jeans and underwear until he was standing gloriously and unabashedly naked in front of her.

He loved the way she bit her lip as she watched him, loved the way she took her time taking him all in from top to bottom, loved the way that this time they actually had a chance to take everything in, really get to know one another, inside and out.

Before Buffy's very own eyes, Dean grew bigger as he once again began to harden under her scrutinizing gaze.

"Lift your left leg," Dean demanded, once Buffy had looked her fill – for now.

She did as she was told and lifted her left leg up into the air, allowing Dean to take a hold of her foot in one hand and pull off her shoe. He lifted the leg higher – entranced to find out she was just as flexible as he had imagined, he'd certainly be making good use of that later – and placed a soft kiss on her ankle. They repeated their actions with her right leg and Dean was joyfully able to pull off her jeans.

"Commando!" he breathed, letting out a low, appreciative whistle.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "In case you've forgotten, I was wearing underwear until somebody ripped it to pieces."

"Oh yeah." He smirked as he remembered their earlier actions in the cemetery, and looked down to where he'd kicked off his jeans. Her ripped panties were sticking out of his back pocket.

"You're a freak of nature," Buffy observed dryly when she spotted them.

With a low growl, Dean swooped forwards and gathered Buffy up into his arms, moving them both over towards the shower. It was difficult to climb in while they were so consumed by the kissing, but somehow he managed it.

Neither of them felt the warm spray of water as Dean pushed her back against the tiled wall as he kissed her, both too busy exploring each others naked bodies with their hands to notice that they were getting soaked.

Eventually, Buffy came to her senses – or at least partially – and pushed Dean away so that there was a little space between them. "We need to actually shower before I turn into a giant prune," she panted. "Lusty, sexy time can come later."

Dean pouted. "But I was planning on getting you all dirty in lusty, sexy time. If we do it later we'll just have to shower all over again."

"I'm okay with that."

"Stubborn woman."

"Horny man."

Dean chuckled and shook his head, placing his hands on her shoulders and squeezing them affectionately. "Sorry, I'm being too...It's just...now that I've got you, now that you're mine, I can't seem get enough of you."

The girl inside of Buffy melted like ice-cream in a microwave. She moved forwards and stood up on her tiptoes to place a grateful kiss on his lips, quickly stepping out of the way again when Dean tried to make it passionate once more. Before he could come after her, she picked up her shampoo and pointed it at him.

"No!" she asserted sternly, whilst trying not to giggle at the sullen expression on his face.

Dean, never one to waste an opportunity, snatched the bottle out of her fingers, waggling his eyebrows suggestively when she looked at him in confusion. He poured some out into his hands and lathered it up before stepping forwards and joining Buffy under the spray. He gestured for her to turn around, and began to massage the shampoo into her wet hair once she'd complied.

Buffy closed her eyes and leaned her head back into his hands at the relaxing sensations.

As he continued to wash her hair, little soapy bubbles left her head and traveled in trails down her neck, curling over her shoulders and making their way down her body. He grinned as he leaned his head over her shoulder to watch, especially enjoying the way the bubbles curved over her breasts. His hands left her hair to rub the bubbles into the soft mounds, getting them soapy and wet and everything he'd ever fantasized about. Ever.

He heard her breath hitch as he rubbed his thumbs over her hardened nipples, and he did it again just to drive her crazy. But when she tried to turn around and move closer to him, Dean stopped his ministrations and held her in place.

"Ah ah ah!" he said teasingly, holding up a solitary finger in front of her and moving it back and forth and beaming when he realized how infuriated that it made her. "Shower first, lusty time later. Remember?"

Buffy shook her head in bemusement. "Asshole."

Chuckling, Dean moved her back into the spray – ignoring his own highly aroused state – and gently rinsed the suds from her hair. He repeated all of his movements with the conditioner before getting to the bit he was most highly anticipating. His cock hardened as he picked up her fruity smelling body wash, the thought of being able to get her body all slippery and shiny and actually being able to touch it making him feel almost dizzy with excitement.

Man, was God on his side or what!

Lathering up the gel in his hands, he moved up behind her and pressed their bodies together, back to chest, and he reached around her to begin rubbing it over her skin. He glided his hands up over her thighs, her stomach, her breasts, her shoulders, and then back down again, fully enjoying feeling her turn into a quivering wreck beneath his very fingertips. As she rested her head back against his shoulder, he slowly moved his fingers towards her inner thighs, creeping them upwards until they were ghosting over the lips of her hot center, sliding them up and down just enough to drive her wild, but not enough to satisfy her. When she moaned and once again tried to move closer, he stopped her just like he had before.

Buffy was pretty sure that if her limbs weren't feeling so much like jelly right at that moment she would have surely killed him. Maimed the idiot, at least.

When it came around to her turn to wash Dean, she decided with no uncertainty that she would be getting her revenge. After washing his hair and rinsing it and being told that in no way was she putting that girly conditioner crap on his hair, even if she was hot, she began to lather him up with his 'manly' shower gel – her fruity smelling body wash being another big no. She ran her hands over the hard lines of his chest, and then pressed her own wet body up against his, making sure that he could feel her breasts as she rubbed them shamelessly against him. As she continued to soap him up, she smirked in the knowledge that she was affecting him just as much as he had affected her – if the way his penis was straining upwards in the air was anything to go by.

Time to get her own back.

After washing away the suds that covered him, Buffy made sure that he was looking at her face and slowly licked her lips before dropping down to her knees before him, earning herself a nice, loud gulp. Smiling innocently, she took his hot member into her hand, moving her firm grip up and down the length and placing a kiss on the tip of it.

"Oh dear God," Dean moaned, feeling himself swell even more.

"Nope," she replied, licking off a drop of pre-cum and smacking her lips together. "Just Buffy." And then she took him into her mouth.

He was big. She'd been able to tell that much when he'd been inside her, and when she'd been staring at hm, but she hadn't realized just how big he was until she was straining her mouth around him. She had to work just to take him all in, but was very glad she did once she heard the pleasured 'guhahhh' noise he made when he touched the back of her throat.

She swallowed to see whether or not he liked it.

He most certainly did.

Grinning around him, she sucked in her cheeks as she pulled back.

Dean could hardly see around the fog that seemed to have taken over him. Hell, he could barely even manage to keep on standing up as he was lost in the feel of Buffy's mouth. He threw one arm back blindly until it hit the cold tiles of the wall and attempted to use it to steady himself. The other he rested on top of Buffy's wet hair.

While her mouth was busy, Buffy ran her hands up and down his thighs. She hadn't meant to make this real, to make this last. She'd just been intending to tease him a little, just like he'd done with her. Drive him crazy and then stop before the big finale. But now she was finding that she was liking it way too much to want to stop.

Stupid Dean and his stupid, alluring penis.

It wasn't long before she felt him about ready to come, and she increased the speed of her movements to help him along. When he tried to pull out of her mouth, she grabbed a hold of his butt cheeks and dug her nails in to keep him where he was.

Unable to hold back any longer, Dean spilled his load into her mouth, leaning back against the wall as she swallowed it and released him.

"Mm," Buffy said with a breathy little moan. "Tasty."

The fog was finally beginning to clear from Dean's mind, and he looked down at her in utter amazement, his chest heaving from large pants. "You," he began, reaching down to pull her up by the arms and into his embrace. "are absofreakinlutely, unbelievably awesome!"

"I know," she answered teasingly. "It's kind of a thing."

They washed themselves down again before climbing out of the shower, and Dean wasted no time at all in scooping her up into his arms once more. He banged out of the bathroom and headed straight over towards one of the beds, dropping Buffy down onto it. She landed with an 'oomph!' and a look of surprise, and Dean stopped a moment to appreciate her glistening body before licking his lips and pouncing on top of her.

"Dean!" Buffy squealed, laughing as he attacked her neck with little nibbles. "We can't do this yet! We haven't dried off, the bed will get all wet!"

"I'm gonna get you all wet," he growled, kissing her fiercely and making her forget all about how ruined the sheets would be once they'd finished.

Moving away from her mouth, Dean kissed her cheek and then went back down to her neck, biting her shoulder and placing a trail of open mouthed kisses down the column of her throat and onto her collar bone. He licked a straight line down to her breasts with the tip of his tongue, pulling away and watching with pleasure as her nipples hardened under his heated gaze.

"Sweet holy hell, you're...perfect," he breathed, before leaning down to take a hard nipple into his mouth.

Dean reached a hand over to her other breast, determined that they get equal attention. When he bit down on one and pinched the other, Buffy bucked her body up towards his and moaned. His girl clearly liked it rough.

Once he was satisfied that he'd spent enough time on her breasts – and effectively turned her into a pile of gooey mush – Dean began to move down Buffy's body once more, leaving a trail of wet kisses in his wake as he made his way towards his goal.

Finally crouched down between her legs, he pushed apart her knees – with absolutely no protest from their owner. She was trembling with desire and he could see that she was already coated in her own juices.

Parting her lips with his fingers, he dived in and licked a straight line from hole to clit.

"Ungh yeah!" she choked out, her body tingling all over already.

Delicious, Dean observed. She was completely fucking delicious. Although it stood to reason, really, so it didn't come as that much of a surprise. Everything else about her was perfect, so it only made sense that she'd be perfect down here too.

As he sucked on her clit, he mused over the fact that he'd never enjoyed going down on a girl more than he was doing right now, and Dean Winchester was a big fan of oral sex. Let it be said that no woman had ever been left unsatisfied. He slid two fingers into her and curled them upwards as he began to pump them in and out, absolutely adoring those little squealy sounds she was making and the way that she was grabbing a hold of his hair in an effort to push him closer.

"More," she gasped.

Dean happily complied, adding another finger and moving them in and out of her even faster.

She thrashed underneath him, and he was finding it difficult to keep her still. He couldn't decide whether he wanted to use his spare hand to hold her hips down or relieve his own throbbing ache. But when she let out a deep, throaty moan that was just as sexy as damned hell, he found his decision made for him, and he reached a hand down to pump at his rapidly hardening – for the third time, what the hell was she doing to him? – dick.

It was when he bit down on her clit that Buffy began to come, furiously, unable to control her own movements as she bucked her hips up into his face. Dean stopped pleasuring himself so that he could wrap an arm around her butt to steady her while he lapped up the rest of her juices.

Whilst Buffy slowly drifted back down to earth, Dean once again climbed up her body, positioning himself on his hands and knees above her.

She pushed a long breath out of pursed lips, smiling giddily as she pulled him down for a long, lingering kiss. "You're really good at that." The longer they kissed, the more she could taste herself on his tongue. Instead of repelling her, it only fueled her desire for Dean even more.

He lowered himself down on top of her, and she could feel his hard erection pressing into her stomach. In one swift movement, she had rolled them over so that their positions were reversed and she was sitting on top of him.

"My turn to take control," she declared, smiling coquettishly.

Dean's eyes shined with excitement. "Go ahead, beautiful, go right ahead."

She leaned up onto her knees and took a hold of his penis, rubbing it up and down her sex in slow, sensuous movements. Watching Buffy pleasure herself with his own dick was just about the hottest thing he'd ever seen – and here was a man who'd watched a lot of porn on a long, lonely hunt – and if he didn't get inside her right the fuck now he was going to explode into itty bitty pieces. And that would probably kill the mood.

Grabbing a hold of her hips, he shifted her forwards a little and bucked up, hoping she'd get the hint.

She did, and with a sly smile, she raised her body up and slid herself down onto his shaft, enveloping him in her wonderful warmth. Resting her hands on his thighs behind her, forcing her breasts to thrust outwards, she slowly began to move up and down. There was nothing she liked more than being in control, and the fact that Dean seemed to be enjoying it so much made her feel all the more sexy. Her movements became quicker and shallower, and she alternated between them and the deeper ones.

Dean grasped a tight hold of her waist, lifting his hips up to meet her for every hard thrust, urging her on eagerly – not that she needed any encouragement. Man, she looked so good up there, bouncing away on top of him as if her life depended on it.

But as much as he was enjoying watching her, he was feeling her absence, even now. He needed to be closer to her, needed to be touching every inch of her body with his. He wanted to be near her. He always wanted to be near her, from now on especially.

He sat up and wrapped his arms around her back, and he could feel Buffy's gasp like a little gust of wind on his shoulder as his movement brought him deeper inside her. After only a second, she regained her control carried on moving up and down.

Her body was higher now, and her breasts were perfectly aligned with Dean's face. He took advantage of this to take a pink nipple into his mouth and bite down.

It was ironic, really, that Buffy's biggest weakness was being bitten, and it only proved how skilled a lover Dean really was that he had already figured that out. She soon found her release, digging her nails into his shoulders and throwing her head back as she yelled out hoarsely.

Dean rolled them over gently and pinned her down underneath him. He paused for a moment, one hand on either side of her head, and looked down at her. Though her eyes were still slightly glazed, she looked right back up at him, and he felt something indescribable pass through him, which he filed away for later thought when he wasn't quite so busy with other more important matters. He leaned down and placed a kiss on her lips, before he began to move in and out of her again. His thrusts were hard and deep, and with Buffy's inner muscles still clenching around him, it wasn't long before he was joining her in sweet bliss, his eyes locked on to hers the whole time. He cried out as he came, pressing his damp forehead against hers as he felt his energy draining away.

Still entwined, he collapsed, half next to her and half on top of her, and they lay together for some time, panting and waiting for their heartbeats to get back to normal.

Dean, with a thoughtful look adorning his face, pulled her silently into his arms, mulling over what he suspected had just happened.

He was pretty sure that he'd just made love to Buffy, in a big kinda way. He gulped audibly and blinked as he tried to understand what that meant. He wondered if she'd noticed, or whether it had just been simple sex to her. He didn't quite understand it, but he did know that although he'd had sex with more woman than he'd had hot dinners, he'd never quite done that with them before.

She snuggled into his chest and gave a content little sigh, and Dean decided that he didn't really need to understand it right now. What mattered was that she was here, with him. Just like she should be.

A little while later, Buffy lifted up her head to rest her chin on Dean's chest. After glancing over at the clock on the bedside table, she looked back over at him and smiled dreamily. "You know," she started. "It's still early. I wouldn't be offended if you wanted to head back to the bar. There's still a couple of hours left of your birthday to celebrate."

Smiling affectionately, Dean finally pulled out of her so that he could lean down and pull up the sheet to cover their naked bodies. Buffy pouted at the loss of contact, and snuggled closer to him once he had lain back down.

"Nah," he replied eventually. "I like the idea of staying here with you and having extra naked time more."

"And here I thought that you couldn't get to sleep without the dulling consummation of your regular one or six beers," she teased, pinching his chest playfully.

All at once, Dean had rolled them over and was back crouching over her, his lips nuzzling at her throat. "Don't need beer," was his muffled answer into her skin. "I'm drunk already, drunk on Buffyness. And I like it!"

Giggling freely, she reached her hands up to his cheeks to pull him in for another kiss.

They both paused when they heard a noise outside the door.

"Oh crap," was mumbled, from what sounded suspiciously like Sam. There was a shuffle, and a jangle of keys clearly being dropped on the floor.

Buffy and Dean looked at each other with wide, horrified eyes for one short moment, before Buffy quickly whipped out of bed and across to the bathroom, banging the door closed behind her. She moved so fast, in fact, that she was nothing more to Dean than a wild blur.

Moving almost as fleetingly as Buffy had, Dean jumped over to where a pair of his jeans lay and yanked them on before flopping back down onto the bed, arranging himself into a casual position just in time for a drunk Sam to enter the room.

"Couldn't get my key to work," Sam blurted, swaying slightly. "Think the lock shrunk while we were out. Oh, here's your jacket, by the way. You left it behind. Stupid."

Dean let out a sigh of relief – they had gotten away with it! Sam was obviously very inebriated – if his insane rambles were anything to go by – which would make acting like nothing had happened a lot easier. A sober Sam would have known there was something going on immediately.

"Where've you been, anyway?" Sam demanded, as he stumbled over to one of the chairs. "It's like, your birthday and you vanished, ya know? And then Faith told all these girls that it was my birthday and they kept on buying me shots which I had to drink! Do you know what that's like, Dean?"

"Awesome?"

"Well...yeah...but that's not the point."

"What is the point?"

"Uh...the point is...is..." He scrunched his face up whilst trying to remember. "Aha! The point is...where'd you go?"

"Uh...me and Buffy ran into a pack of vamps. Things got messy so we came back here to clean up."

Dean thanked his lucky stars for the fact that he'd been able to come up with that so quick – it had kinda been true, anyway – and that Sam was so intoxicated. He was usually pretty good in figuring out when his big brother was lying to him. Instead he simply nodded his head and yawned.

"I'm beat," he divulged. "Think I'll get ready to hit the sack."

"Fine," Dean replied. "Wait a second, where's Faith at?"

"Oh, she's just behind me. She was flirting with the desk guy so I went on ahead."

"Sounds about right."

Buffy leaned her back against the bathroom door, only a towel covering her naked body. Her scared, heavy pants had only just began to calm down, but her heart was still beating furiously away. She couldn't believe Sam had almost just walked in on them! What if he had seen them? What would he think? Oh boy...

This was one helluva reality boost, that was for sure.

God, what the frick had they been thinking? What the frick had she been thinking?

Dean belonged to Faith.

He was Faith's man and that was that, and Buffy had just...well she had just done a whole bunch of seriously naughty things with her best friends guy, and that was just so wrong.

And yes, maybe Dean and Faith weren't technically together anymore – if together is what they had been in the first place – but Faith had met him first, plain and simple. She had staked her claim, and Buffy had just pulled it out and thrown it to the moon.

She was going to hell, and she totally deserved it.

Taking a deep breath and reprimanding herself for being so cowardly and hiding in the bathroom, she slipped on her pajamas, glad that she'd been too lazy to tidy them away this morning, and let herself back into the bedroom.

She glanced over at Sam, who smiled cheerily at her and waved, and then at Dean, who gave a small shake of his head, which Buffy assumed meant that Sam didn't know anything. She sighed gratefully.

"I was just telling Sam about those vamps we dusted," Dean explained, eying her meaningfully. "And how that was the reason we didn't make it back to the bar."

"Oh...uh...yeah, sure," she replied, catching on to what he was trying to tell her. "Night full of vampy killing goodness. Can't sleep without it. And talking of sleep," She feigned a large yawn. "I'm exhausted. I'm gonna get into bed."

Dean tried his best to catch her eye again, but his efforts were futile. She was avoiding his gaze, and he suspected it had a whole lot to do with how bad she was feeling right now. He got it, he really did. He felt bad too. But he also felt like every single thing they'd done together throughout the night had been...right, and he was damned sure that he wasn't about to give up on them now. Nor would he let her try, either.

She'd touched him tonight, and he didn't just mean physically. She'd changed him, altered his mind, his soul, his heart. She was all around him, under his skin, in his blood...and he liked it.

No chance on earth was he about to let her go, not without a fight.


	25. Chapter 25

Beautiful image created by the very talented sarbear

AN – Wow. Six long months since I last updated this story :s All I can do is apologize for keeping you guys waiting, and hope that you're still with me. In that time I've managed to break two laptops, move house twice and grow into a big pregnant pumpkin – my due date was three days ago but she's showing no signs of appearance yet. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the long overdue chapter :D

Scarecrow – Part One

"Yuh huh," Buffy spoke into her cell phone as Willow relayed all the goings on back at the school. "She did that all by herself? That's great!...Really? Wow!...Oh, you do?...Okay...Yeah, I know. You too, okay?...Uh, sure. Maybe I'll see you soon...Bye, Will."

After ending the conversation, she threw down the phone onto her bed with a sigh. She usually checked in at the school at least once a week to make sure that everything was running smoothly in her absence.

Of course, it was.

Running a hand through her hair frustratedly, she circled the dingy motel room for the hundredth time, wondering what else there was she could possibly do to pass the time. She checked her watch – the phone call with Willow hadn't even taken up ten minutes!

Blowing out a puff of air, she flopped down onto her bed and threw her arms over her face.

God, she was so damned frustrated!

Sam, Dean and Faith had left over half an hour ago to grab a bite to eat somewhere but Buffy, desperate to avoid spending any extra time with Dean and Faith out of shame and guilt, had pretended to be coming down with a cold.

She hated lying, but everything was just so damned complicated!

What she really needed was to get out of the motel room and get some good slaying in, but now that was out of the question because of her stupid 'I'm so ill' lie. If the others got back and found her gone, they'd be more than suspicious. Especially Dean.

"Gah!" she cried, rolling over and climbing back off the bed.

She needed to do something...anything! There was an itchiness in her bones and a boatload of tormenting angst in her blood.

The longer she was cooped up in this room alone, the more time she had to think about him...about Dean. About every little thing they'd done together.

And it was driving her crazy.

She stomped over to the window and pulled back the blinds so that she could stare up at the sky. It was a clear night. Clear enough to see the blanket of stars that covered the inky blackness.

Perfect for slaying.

Before she could ponder this thought any more, the motel room door banged open behind her, startling her heart into a quick leap. She swiveled around and placed her hand over her nearest concealed weapon.

"Oh," she said with a relieved sigh, once she'd realized that the enemy was actually just Dean. The relief she felt, however, lasted a few mere seconds before she was back to the mind racking guilt. "I...uhm...I thought you were getting some food with Faith and Sam?"

She prayed to God that they were right behind him because boy did she not want to be alone with him right now.

He glared at her, clearly very pissed off. "Yeah, well, that's the thing. I told them that I thought I might be coming down with your cold." He forced out a pitiful, sarcastic sounding cough, as if to stick the fact that he knew she'd been blatantly lying in even further in her face.

Buffy folded her arms over chest in an unconscious act of defense. "Why?"

"Because you and I need to have a little chat, beautiful. Alone."

She glanced down at the floor, unable to keep looking into his fire filled eyes. "About what?"

He threw his hands up into the air in frustration, before spinning around and running his fingers through his hair. "You know damned well what about! We need to talk about what happened between us last week! You've been avoiding the hell out of me and Faith ever since it happened, and I've just about had enough!"

"I haven't been avoi-"

"Oh, come on! You didn't say a single thing to me while we were on that freaky ass asylum case. It's time to start talking, buttercup. And I mean it."

"What do you want me to say, Dean? Because I really have no idea."

"Well, I want you to start by admitting the fact that something happened between us. Something amazing. And admitting that it mean something. That it-"

"The only thing that it was, Dean, was wrong! And you know it."

He huffed in disbelief. "Yeah, I really don't. In fact, what I know is that what we did was about the furthestfrom wrong as you could possibly get!"

Buffy dropped her arms to her sides, her fists curled up into tight balls. "What planet are you on? What we did was betrayal!"

"To who?!"

"Are you kidding me? To Faith! We went behind her back in just the worst kind of way!"

He frowned, not seeing her point. "Buffy...me and Faith aren't even together! We never even really were. It was just...fun."

"That's not how she'll see it. She'll see that you were her guy and I slept with you behind her back. Pure and simple."

"I don't remember much sleeping being involved, cupcake."

Buffy blushed and turned her head away. "Don't."

Dean sighed in aggravation. "So that's it then, huh? You're just gonna go on pretending that nothing happened between us. That there is nothing between us? That you don't feel this mind boggling connection we have?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. I don't feel anything," she lied. "It's all in your head."

"Then maybe you'll feel this," he ground out, before stomping towards her.

Buffy barely had time to gasp before she was pushed up hard against the motel wall and kissed, furiously.

After only a couple of seconds – not nearly enough for either one of them – he pulled away, just a couple of inches so that he could look her in the eye. "Now tell me you don't feel anything," he dared, his voice low and dangerous.

She couldn't. Couldn't lie to him, couldn't keep pretending. Not when his body was warm and hard against hers and not when her heart was beating so loud and fast in her chest.

Breathlessly, she grabbed a hold of his cheeks between her two hands and fused his lips back onto hers, silence being the only other thing she could offer him.

And then she was kissing him as if her very life depended on it.

"I knew it," Dean breathed out around kisses. "God, I knew it."

He pushed her impossibly harder against the wall with the weight of his body and slipped a knee between her legs, wrapping one hand around her waist and grasping a hold of her hair with the other. Ripping his mouth away from hers, he began to nip along the side of her throat, sending delicious tingles right through her body.

"Oh God, I can't..." Buffy gasped out, banging her head back against the wall.

"Can't what?"

"Can't get enough...of you..."

He lifted his head up and rested his forehead against hers. "Baby, I know the feeling."

A loud chuckle came from outside of the motel room door, and they sprung apart as if they'd been electrocuted, recognizing the laughter as Sam's.

They were just in time for not a second later, the door was being opened and an amused looking Faith and Sam were entering.

The two paused as they spotted a flustered looking Buffy and Dean, their eyes flitting from one of the shifty looking pair to the other.

"Uh...are you guys okay?" Sam asked. "What have you been doing?"

Dean, trying hard not to breathe too heavily, glanced over at Buffy for helpful suggestions, but she looked just as blank as he felt. He cursed silently when he saw how ruffled she looked. "We were...uhm...sparring," he settled on eventually. He nodded to himself, pleased with his own quick thinking.

Sam pulled a confused face. "But I thought you were both ill?"

Dammit. Dean had forgotten about his earlier lie.

Buffy, finally making her first sound since Sam and Faith had entered the room, let out a shrill, high pitched bubble of uncomfortable laughter. "You know me. There's nothing in the world that can't be cured with a good spot of old fashioned violence."

"Still, you probably shouldn't strain yourselves," Sam pointed out, thankfully accepting their excuses. "You should get some sleep. Rest up before we head out tomorrow."

"You're right," Buffy agreed, moving over to the bed and sitting down. "Totally right. Resting is good. I like to rest."

Faith rolled her eyes at Buffy's weird behavior and crossed her arms impatiently. "Whatever. This is all very boring." She waved a dismissive hand in the air and then shot Dean a sultry glance. "Now, I'm feeling all antsy and there ain't no bad guys in this crap hole of a town to get my fighting on with 'cause me and Sammy boy already did a sweep. So I've got a little problem."

Dean glanced around the room, uncomfortable with the way that she was undressing him with her eyes in front of Buffy. When he looked back in her direction, however, she was still watching him. "Uh...and what's that?"

"Well, honey, I've got all this extra energy just swishing around inside me, and no way to fight it out. Think I'm gonna need a big strong man to help me out. Know what I'm saying?"

"Uhm...no?" he lied.

"Then let me make it simple for you. I just spoke to the motel manager. He had a last minute cancellation so there's a room going spare after all. You fancy sharing it with me tonight, lover?"

Oh crap.

Dean looked over at Buffy with wide, alarmed eyes, but she was staring determinedly at a crack in the motel room door. He turned to face Faith once more, aware that he was opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish and unable to do anything to stop it.

Where in the hell had this come from? Faith hadn't tried anything with him – not really – since the other week at the bar, and even that had been a halfhearted attempt that they'd both known would come to nothing. He thought they had been done?!

"Oh...uh...I can't," he answered finally, when he realized that God wasn't about to send down a miracle to save him from the awkwardness of the situation. "I'm...ill, remember? Wouldn't want you to catch it. That would be...bad."

"You don't look all that ill."

"Well I am." He coughed weakly to prove his point.

Faith narrowed her eyes and her lips thinned into a barely visible white line. "Dean, mind if we talk for a minute?" she bit out. "In private?"

This didn't look good. "Oh...sure..."

With his head down, Dean followed Faith past Sam and Buffy and into the corridor outside of their room. He flinched when Faith slammed the door shut behind them.

"What's up?" he asked, trying to make his voice sound jovial and carefree.

Faith glared at him in disgust. "Like you don't know. I want to know what's going on. Between me and you."

With her and him? What her and him? He hadn't been aware that a her and him even existed! Maybe months ago. But even that hadn't been a thing! It had just been...Oh Jesus, was he in trouble. "I don't understand."

She huffed impatiently and began tapping her toe on the floor. "Well...we haven't had sex in months! And for people like you and me that's like...forever! I mean, come on, it's not like I'm looking for a relationship or nothing. Hell, that's the last thing I want! But we had something going on so I'd appreciate a bit of honesty, that's all I'm saying. Okay? I just wanna know where I stand. That so hard?"

Dean rubbed the back of his head, wishing he could be any place but in that corridor.

Man, where had it all come from? He'd assumed that Faith had let the idea of the two of them go a long time ago. He was sure she'd gone home with a guy or two, so why was she bringing it up now? Damn, this was awkward. "Look," he started. "Do we really have to talk about this right now? I'm kind of tired, and I told you I'm ill-"

"Oh, like hell you're ill! Don't kid a kidder, Dean! Just man up and tell the truth for once in your damned life!"

"About what? I had no idea you were even thinking of me and you like that anymore."

"Jeez! Way to make a girl feel two feet tall! I told you I'm not looking for a wedding ring here, buddy! Just a bit of fun, like we were having. At least until you went all weird and sex free, anyway. What's wrong with wanting a bit of fun, man?"

"Nothing, I guess. And I never said there was."

"Right then." Faith seemed to lose all of her steam. "So, you in?"

"For fun?"

"Yeah."

Dean sighed and closed his eyes. "No."

"You know something, Dean," Faith bit out. "I'm so over this. You don't wanna piece of this, that's your loss. But don't ever expect to get the chance again. Whatever we might have had is over. Done."

He nodded. "Okay then."

Looking decidedly pissed off, Faith wound her fists into tight balls. "Fine, you asshole! That's all you had to say. There was no need to string me along like some little groupy, ya know? You never had to lie about it! It's not like I'm some kind of kid, I can handle being knocked back!" And with those final words she stormed past him and back into the bedroom.

As she slammed the door – yet again – Dean closed his eyes, suddenly exhausted, and sagged back against the wall.

Buffy had been right the whole time. This whole thing was a damn lot more complicated than he'd naively thought.

But one thing was for sure – he'd never lied. Not intentionally, anyway. He'd though that whatever it was he'd had going on with Faith was over. Thought it had been for a while.

Screw that, it had been over!

But it looked like somewhere along the way they'd all gotten their wires crossed.

Oh hell.

When Dean finally re-entered the room some minutes later, he found that Faith had already changed and climbed into bed with Buffy. She was turned on her side and facing the wall, clearly pretending to be asleep.

He locked eyes with Buffy, who gave him an inquisitive yet sympathetic smile. He simply shrugged at her before kicking off his jeans and dropping down onto the other bed.

"Hey!" a wet haired Sam protested as he exited the bathroom. "It's my night to take the bed, remember?"

Dean ignored him pointedly and pulled the bed covers up, switching off his bed side lamp and turning away. He'd had a hard night, and Sam could just go and screw himself.

"Guess I'm taking the floor then," Sam muttered under his breath, knowing now was not the time to press his brother. "Again."

Buffy watched as, still mumbling to himself in annoyance, Sam arranged the spare bedding on the floor and switched off the other lamp, filling the room up with complete darkness.

Before long, she knew that she was the only person left in the room still awake, and not for the first time that night, she blamed it all on frustration.

There was just no way to get the events of the night out of her mind, no way at all. Not of the kiss, not of the conversation that she and Sam had tried desperately to pretend they couldn't overhear between Faith and Dean, not of the way her heart was still beating and her lips were still burning and her skin was still tingling, as if it had only been mere seconds since she and Dean had kissed.

Faith shifted in her sleep next to her, and Buffy cringed, guilt still heating up the blood in her veins.

But this was a different kind of guilt, because she was sure about something now. She was sure about Dean, and about the way she felt about him. He was inside her heart, her body, her blood. There was no ignoring that they had something special, he'd made her see that with his irresistible kisses and his electrifying touches, and she knew now that it was time she stopped trying.

She also knew that there would be a whole lot of chaos when everybody finally found out.

Buffy wasn't sure what time it was when she finally managed to drift off to sleep, and she also wasn't sure what time it was when she was awoken not long later by the sound of heated voices.

"Wuz goin' on?" she asked drowsily, pushing herself up into a sitting position and rubbing her tired eyes.

"Dad! Where are you?" she heard what sounded suspiciously like Sam demand desperately. And then, "What? Why the hell not?"

She shook her head to try and clear the confusion a little. In the next bed, she saw Dean sit up and question Sam whether or not the person he was speaking to on the phone was their father.

His words immediately dispersed her of any tiredness and it was with wide eyes that she watched Sam heatedly inquire about the demon – their demon – before getting into what was clearly an argument.

Finally, and thankfully because he was getting more and more frustrated as he received no answers to his questions, the cellphone was snatched out of his hands by an impatient looking Dean, and all Buffy could do was watch as Sam slumped helplessly against the side of her bed.

"How did you even manage to get a hold of him?" Buffy asked Sam quietly as Dean wrote down the orders that their father was giving him.

"I didn't," Sam replied dully. "He's the one that called us, the asshole. All this time worrying out of our minds about him and he's perfectly fine. You think he might have picked up the phone to let us know that before now."

Buffy wanted to say something reassuring, to rid him of the helpless look that marred his face, but it seemed that words completely eluded her.

Thankfully she was saved by an alert Dean whipping his sheets off and jumping out of bed. "Wake up Faith and pack your stuff," he ordered, barely even sparing Buffy a glance. "We've got a job to do."

"I'm telling you, the guy is just...a genius!" Dean gushed admiringly about his father as he studied the case notes in the car not long later. He'd been rifling through them ever since they'd left the motel, and in his eagerness, he'd even let Sam drive.

Buffy flinched in the backseat when Sam cursed and swerved suddenly to a stop at the side of the road.

"Jesus, Sammy!" Faith yelled. "Give a gal a warning next time, would ya?"

Sam didn't even seem to hear what she'd said. Instead he turned to his brother and announced that they would be dropping the case and heading out to California to find their dad.

Buffy, feeling very awkward to be sat so close to their heated family argument, leaned over and snagged the map off of Dean's lap so that she could study it and pretend she couldn't hear them.

"Don't be stupid, Dad doesn't even want out help," Dean protested.

"I don't care," Sam answered back petulantly. "If he's looking for the demon, I want in!"

"Are you an idiot? He gave us an order, Sam! He gives us an order, we follow it. That's the way things go!"

"Did you not just hear me say I don't care?"

Buffy frowned down at the map she was studying, looking closer at the place Dean had circled. "Oh, hey!" she spoke up. "What a coincidence! My aunt and uncle actually live in this town. Maybe they could help us out."

Of course, nobody listened to a word she'd said. Not that she'd really expected it.

Back in the front, the conversation was getting angrier and less rational by the second, and Buffy shrank down in her seat, wishing to God that she could be any place but there.

Faith, on the other hand, was leaning forwards and watching the debate obviously and without any signs of embarrassment.

Buffy closed her eyes and bit her lip as she overheard Sam tell Dean that he couldn't possibly have any idea how it felt to lose someone, because he'd been so young when their mother had died. Right then she decided that Sam had taken it too far. Jess may have died recently, but it really didn't give him any excuse to treat his brother this way.

Things were quickly sliding out of control, but she had no idea how on earth she was supposed to stop it without getting involved in what was clearly a 'family only' kind of thing.

She was yanked out of her internal debate when Sam, followed quickly by Dean, slammed out of the car and moved around to the trunk. She felt bad for even thinking it, but she was kind of glad they'd chosen to take it someplace else – even if she could still hear every word that was being said.

Her eyes widened in alarm when she spotted Sam remove his bags from the trunk of the car, and they widened even further when he announced that he was leaving for California whether Dean wanted to come with him or not.

"Come on, B," Faith commanded, sliding over to the door so that she could climb out. "Time to roll."

Faith wanted them to break up the fight? This wouldn't go down well.

Buffy groaned, but had no choice but to scramble out of the car after Faith.

"Faith, wait!" she called. "What are you-" She paused mid sentence when she realized that Faith was not breaking up the argument, but retrieving her own bags from the trunk instead. "Faith, what are you doing? Seriously?"

Ignoring her, Faith turned to Dean as she heaved the bags up onto her shoulder. "You're being totally unreasonable."

"What?" Dean frowned. "What the hell are you even talking about? This has nothing to do with you."

"I'm talking about the fact that you go on and on about how the whole reason you live your life the way you do is so you can hunt and kill that demon, right? So this is your big chance! Why aren't you taking it? You gonna screw over your own brother just to follow one of Daddy's stupid orders?"

"Uh...Faith?" Buffy intervened awkwardly. "I really don't think this is any of our business. We should just stay out of it and let Sam and Dean work it out for themselves-"

"Sam is leaving, Buffy!" Faith yelled. "And we're going with him. Hurry up and get your stuff."

"What? What do you mean we're going with him? Faith, we can't leave. We can't split up. Sam will come around-"

"No I won't," Sam interjected harshly.

"Sam's right about this," Faith commented. "and Dean's wrong. And Dean's the one being a jerk about the whole thing. Sam's going, and I don't blame him. Hell, I intend to join him."

It pained her, but Buffy couldn't help but think that Faith was reacting so harshly towards Dean because of what had occurred between them earlier on in the night. She'd never really been rejected by a guy before, and it was stinging her pride. On any other day, she would have slapped Sam over the head and told him to stop being an ass and to get him teeny tiny butt back into the car so that they could discuss the situation properly.

Now there was just...this.

"You know what," Dean exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air in defeat. "Screw this. And screw you, Sam. I'm going. Now. And I will leave without you, I mean it."

"Good!" Sam shouted. "That's what I've been trying to get you to do this whole time." And with those final words, he hoisted his bag higher up on his shoulder and turned and began to walk away, determination in his every step.

Dean watched him go for a moment, before shaking his head in disgust and slamming his way back into the car.

"So?" Faith asked Buffy.

"So what?"

"So are you coming or what?"

Buffy felt like someone was tearing at her insides, and all she wanted to do was cry. How had this happened so quickly? How had it gotten to this? "I can't," she replied quietly. "I need to stay with Dean."

Faith looked gobsmacked by her answer, and honestly, Buffy didn't blame her. "Are you actually kidding me? I'm telling you right now, Buffy, this is a choice. Okay? A real choice. You pick me and Sam, or Dean. What's it gonna be?"

"I'm so sorry," Buffy expressed, backing away and blinking the tears out of her eyes. "I just...he needs me."

Faith nodded once. "Fine." And then she turned and headed after Sam's retreating back, her body stiff and unyielding.

Buffy watched her go until she could no longer see anything of Faith and Sam, and it was with a very heavy heart that she climbed back into the car besides Dean.

He turned to her as she closed the door, looking more than surprised to see her there. He said nothing, however, and it was only a moment later that he turned back to the wheel and started up the car.

Buffy rested her head against the cold window as they drove away, a silent tear making it's tracks down her flushed cheek.

They drove in silence for well over an hour, both too troubled over what had just happened to take part in any kind of conversation.

Their family had just separated, and neither had been able to stop it.

Finally, Dean huffed and pulled over to the side of the road, unable to drive any further with his blurred vision. "Mother fucker!" he cursed loudly, punching at the steering wheel in fury at himself.

Buffy immediately moved over closer to him and wrapped him up in her arms, providing the comfort that both of them needed. Dean tucked his head into her neck and stroked one of her arms.

The moment, however, was over within seconds. Dean pulled away and shrugged Buffy off without even a word to explain why.

She sat back in her seat, hurt by his attitude and blatant dismissal. She hadn't just ditched her best friend on the side of the road to be treated like she didn't even matter.

Taking a deep, calming breath, she shook her head at herself. He was just upset over Sam. Of course he was going to act differently. He needed time to cool down and honestly, so did she.

"So...what are we gonna do now?" he asked him, her voice quiet and cautious.

Dean was silent for a moment more, before sitting up straight and arranging his face into a businesslike expression. "Now we're gonna do our job,"he announced stiffly. "Just like we're supposed to."

Buffy nodded. "Right. Where do we start?"

"Am I being crazy, or do I remember you mentioning something about an aunt an uncle earlier?"

"Uncle Harley is my dad's older brother," Buffy was busy explaining to Dean as they drove into town early the next morning, after getting only two and a half hours of uncomfortable sleep in the car. "He and Aunt Stacey lived practically next door to us back in LA. But then when Celia – she was their daughter – when Celia died they moved away and came here. Wanted to be somewhere quieter, I guess."

"Was it a normal death? Not...supernatural...I mean," Dean asked.

"No, it was supernatural alright." She looked out of the car window, her mind heavy with bad memories. "Except I didn't find that out 'till I was seventeen and almost killed by the same ugly bastard myself."

He looked over at her for the first time that morning, sympathy shining from his eyes. "Man, that just sucks. I'm sorry."

"Hey, it's okay. I man, when I was a kid I never really got over seeing Celia die, but killing the hell out of the thing that murdered her – big help. Kind of like therapy, but with the butt kicking and the ick factor."

"They should doctor recommend it."

"When my aunt and uncle left, they really just left. They didn't keep in touch with anyone, apart from the occasional Christmas card. When my mom and dad divorced, we stopped hearing from them altogether. I left them a message when my mom died but they never called."

"Then how do you know they're even still here? They could have moved years ago."

"I still talk to my dad like, once a year. He's a real stand up guy." She snorted at her own sarcastic words. "I know he still gets the occasional card from them and he would have mentioned that they'd moved in our last annual phone call."

Dean seemed satisfied with her explanation, and pulled up in town only minutes later.

As Buffy gathered up her jacket from the backseat, she spied Dean checking out his cellphone from the corner of her eye.

She and Faith had already shared apologetic texts this morning, but she knew that Dean had hard nothing from Sam. She also knew that he was just bursting to call him. Check up on him, update him, call him an ass. Anything.

If only he'd get over his stupid pride.

"Why don't you just give him a call?" she suggested gently. Perhaps all he needed was a little encouragement?

Dean responded by slapping his cellphone shut and tossing her an annoyed glare. "Back off," he warned. "This is family stuff. Nothing to do with you so just leave it."

Buffy, taken aback by his harsh manner, shrank back in her seat, feeling incredibly stupid for ever thinking that he considered her and Faith to be family, even if only in an odd, unconventional kind of way.

But within seconds she went from hurt to mad. How dare he treat her this way?! How dare he act like such a gigantic ass towards her when she was the only one ho had stuck by him, which had almost resulted in her losing one of her best friends in the process?

With a sigh of utter frustration, she opened the car door and climbed out, muttering 'Fine.' under her breath. As she stalked away, she heard him exiting after her.

"Where are you going?" he called.

"To find my aunt and uncle," she replied sharply, without even looking back in his direction.

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Do whatever you want, I don't care. Talk to some of the other residents living in town. Ask if they've seen anything of the missing people."

She was pretty sure she might have heard him mutter something sarcastic in response, but she was too far away to hear him clearly and quite frankly, she didn't really care. He could just go on being a big arrogant douchebag for as long as he wanted.

Jerk.

Shoving her hands into her pockets in indignation, she paused for a moment when she realized her pockets weren't empty as she'd left him. She pulled out one of her hands, watching in fascination as tiny grains of salt ran through her fingers and dropped onto the floor.

Stupid frikkin' Dean and his stupid frikkin' sweet as hell habits!

Just when she was all righteously pissed at him he had to go and do something totally adorable. Even when he was being a dick he was still thinking about protecting her. And okay, maybe adorable was stretching it just alittle – after all, the salt would be a total bitch to clean out – but it at least showed he cared. Kind of.

After the way he'd been acting with her since Faith and Sam had left, she'd been having serious doubts.

Dammit.

"I spy, with my little eye, something beginning with...R." Faith smirked triumphantly, sure that Sam wouldn't get this one.

"Road," he replied dryly, rolling his eyes.

Faith was impressed. "Wow, Sammy boy! You're really good at this! Did you and Dean play a lot when you were kids?"

"Nope, not really. But the road is the only thing around here. For miles. It's been the only thing around for hours."

Faith sighed at the sound of his irritated voice. They'd walked right through the night, despite her suggestions that they stop off and use the sleeping bags somewhere. She was doing perfectly fine, if a little hungry – slayer stamina and all – but Sam was beyond tired. He was exhausted and frustrated but refused to stop, determined as he was to get to his father as soon as humanely possible.

They both paused mid stride as they turned a corner in the road.

"Not the only thing around..." she trailed off as they spied a blonde girl lounging on the grass, not too far away.

Sam visibly perked up at the prospect of something – anything – different happening to brighten up the morning. "Hey there!" he called out to her.

The girl didn't acknowledge that she'd seen or heard him in any way.

"Hello?" Sam's voice was louder this time, and a little confused.

"She has earphones in, Sam," Faith pointed out, trying hard not to laugh when the girl once again failed to respond.

Sam blushed slightly and then shrugged, before making a move towards the girl.

"Wait!" Faith hissed, holding a halting arm out in front of his chest. "Maybe we shouldn't. Let's just ignore her and keep on going."

"What? Why? She's just a traveler. Like us."

Faith rolled hey eyes. For a smart guy he was awfully naive. Oh yeah, 'cause we're just your normal, everyday travelers. Nothing weird about us at all."

"You know what I mean."

"So do you. Me and you might look like a normal guy and girl, but we ain't. And she might not be ether. You gotta learn to be cautious, kiddo. Thought your daddy taught you all this?"

Sam bristled at the mention of his father, and for a small, stubborn moment, he felt just like that awkward teenager sulking in the backseat of the car because John had denied him something every other normalteenager took for granted.

He suddenly became all the more determined to speak to the girl.

"Come on, Faith. Look at her. She's just a girl. What if she needs our help or something?"

And before Faith could make any further protests, he had pushed past her arm and leaned down to tap the girl on the shoulder.

Faith watched, her eyes growing narrower by the second, as Sam and the blonde girl shared flirtatious words. The girl spoke to him through hooded eyes an pouty lips and Faith had to physically restrain herself from gagging as Sam practically drooled all over her. She almost thanked God out loud when the first truck they had seen that morning pulled up besides them and the greasy looking man inside rolled down the window and offered them a ride.

"Not you, though," the driver warned Sam with a shrug. "Just the girls. I ain't taking you nowhere."

Pulling a nonchalant face, Faith stepped back next to Sam. "Sorry, man. I'm sticking with Stretch."

"Whatever," the driver replied. "Your loss, little lady." He glanced over at the blonde girl, giving her an obvious leer. "Hows about you, blossom? You getting in or are you gonna keep walking like these two knuckleheads?"

"I'm in," she chirped, grabbing up her bags and heaving them into the door he ad just opened for her.

Sam widened his eyes in shock at her actions. "Wait. Are you sure you should go with him? He might not be safe."

The truck driver scoffed and folded his arms, and the blonde girl merely chuckled as she climbed into the passenger seat. "Trust me, cutie. I can take care of myself."

"But-"

Sam's next words were drowned out as the driver started up the truck. Within seconds they were gone, leaving him open mouthed in a cloud of dust.

Faith sighed with relief, glad that the girl was gone. There had been something about her that just hadn't felt right, and she was glad that for once, trouble had easily been averted.

Buffy let herself into the little store attached to the town garage, guessing that it belonged to her uncle due to the big, bright sign with his name on it sitting on top of the roof. She looked up as she heard the bell on the door jingle.

"Sweet merciful Mary!" she heard a soft voice exclaim. She looked over towards the counter to see her Aunt Stacey – looking much older than she remembered but still most definitely her aunt – staring at her with wide eyes and a hand placed directly over her heart. "Buffy? Little Buffy? Is that really you? Why, I haven't seen you since you were just a wee little thing!"

Buffy nodded slowly, forcing a smile onto her face. "Well I'm not so little anymore, but yeah...it's me. Buffy. Your niece."

Stacey rushed out from behind the counter and swept up a surprised Buffy into a tight embrace. "My dear, it's been so long! So long. And you've grown into such a beautiful young thing!" She released her hold on Buffy and turned towards another door Buffy could only assume led into a back room. "Hey, Harley! Harley! Come on out here and see who just turned up outta the blue!"

Buffy was amazed to be receiving such a warm welcome after all the years without contact. To be honest, she'd expected nothing more than hostility and mild politeness. And as much as she wanted to act mad and hurt that they had abandoned her and Dawn for all this time, being hugged by such a familiar, motherly figure was just too nice. If Dean didn't want her to be a part of his family, then she could easily just be a part of her own.

Besides, she'd always liked Stacey and Harley when she had been younger, and had missed them when they'd stopped coming around.

Harley chose that moment to bustle out of the back room, startling Buffy out of her contemplative thoughts. He paused in a pleased kind of shock as he saw who was standing next to his wife. "Bless my soul," he gasped. "If it's not out sweet, little niece!"

Buffy laughed and moved into his outstretched arms. "Enough with the little already! I may be small but I pack a surprisingly spiffy punch."

He pulled back and grasped at her shoulders, moisture in his happy eyes. "Exactly like we left you. The same cheerful little girl."

She coughed awkwardly an averted her eyes. "Hmm. Not exactly the same..."

"Oh, I know. You're all grown up now."

"Uh...sure." She frowned and stepped back, glancing between her aunt and uncle with a furrowed brow. "Not that I'm not happy to see you guys or anything, because I really, really am, but I just wasn't expecting you to be as pleased to see...well, me. I mean, you haven't exactly been keepintoucho guys for the last...two decades."

Stacey an Harley shared a glance full of shame and doubt.

"You're right. Of course you're right," Stacey acknowledged, hanging her head. "We've been the worst kind of family to you and poor Dawn. We just...please understand, Buffy. After we...after we lost Celia we had to get away. Away from Los Angeles – so full of reminders. Even you, honey. You two girls were so close, and it was just so heartbreaking to see her in your little face. By the time we could come to terms with what had happened you'd gone and moved away to Sunnydale and we didn't have your address. I know we could have gotten it of your father but...we were just so ashamed."

Harley shook his head pitifully. "And one day we turn on the television and the reporter is telling us all about a little town called Sunydale turning into some kind of crater! I tell you, the day your father told us that you and Dawn had gotten out in time was one of the happiest we'd had in a long while."

Buffy felt awful. Awful for judging them and bringing up Celia when even now it was clearly still hard for them to talk about. And it couldn't be easy, either, seeing her. She and Celia had been almost the same age, and her presence must have brought up a lot of 'what ifs' in their minds. "It's okay, really," she hastened to assure them.

Although truthfully, it still kind of wasn't. She and Dawn could have really used their comfort after their mother had died, especially with their father going awol.

But they were family, and family forgave family.

She drifted away as her aunt and uncle exclaimed some more over how beautiful she'd grown and how oh so proud they were of her. She zoned back in just in time to answer question after question about Dawn and to show them the photograph she kept of her sister in her purse.

"Oh!" Stacey gasped excitedly, clapping her hands and bouncing on the balls of her feet. "You should meet Joshua! I can't believe we haven't introduced you to Joshua!"

"Why? Who's he?"

"He works for us here at the garage. Such a treasure! And his daughter, too. Little Ella her name is. Joshua and Ella used to live here with us, but they moved into their own house just last year."

"Did I hear someone mention my name?"

Buffy raised her eyebrows appreciatively when a young, very attractive man popped his head around the doorway Harley had appeared from not too long before.

Stacey smiled and gestured for him to come in.

"What's up, Stace?" he asked.

"Come over here. I want you to meet our niece."

His eyes, which had swept quickly – yet approvingly – past Buffy just seconds before, swiveled back around to study her more deeply once he realized that she wasn't just the customer he'd assumed. Judging by the small smile and the shine in his eyes, he liked what he saw. "Right," he said, holding out his hand to her. "Stacey and Harley have actually mentioned you once or twice. Buffy or Dawn?"

"Buffy," she informed him, smiling and taking a hold of his hand. It was large and warm, and rough due to to the physical nature of his job. Perfect hands.

"That's a real pretty name, Buffy. I'm Josh."

It was a short ten minutes later when Dean finally sauntered into the garage, only to find Buffy and some guy chuckling together like old friends. He narrowed his eyes as he studied this new intruder.

He didn't like him. Not one bit.

Especially seeing as Dean knew that he was probably considered a 'babe' to most girls. With his stupid blonde hair and stupid tall tallness. Stupid good looking freak.

Hearing the bell above the door chime, they both turned at the same time to glance in his direction.

"Oh," Buffy droned. "It's you. Fun."

"This a friend of yours, honey?" an older man – who Dean assumed must be the uncle Buffy had been talking about – questioned.

She shrugged. "We kind of...travel together. Sort of."

She groaned internally when Stacey and Harley's faces dissolved into horrified, disgraced expressions, and remembered too late just how old fashioned they could be. The fact that she and Dean traveled alone together unmarried and unsupervised would practically be a sin in their eyes.

"Just the two of you?" Stacey inquired, her voice high. "A young man and a woman? On their own? Together?"

Dean was easily able to see where this was going, and though he'd have loved to watch it pan out, because hey, he needed a good laugh, he also knew they just didn't have the time. With that in mind, he moved over to Buffy's side and slid and arm around her little waist, kissing the top of her head lovingly. "Actually, we're engaged. Ain't that right, Buffyboo?" He looked over at the others with a sickening smile. "That's my little nickname for her. Cute, right?"

Her aunt and uncle smiled delightedly, and the new guy just looked kind of grossed out.

Ha!

Buffy tutted in irritation for his annoying – yet perfectly timed – involvement.

"Buffy, you never mentioned anything about being engaged," a delighted looking Stacey pointed out.

"I wanted to wait until Deany got here," Buffy replied, forcing herself to play along with a voice full of faux sweetness. She wrapped her arms around his waist and pinched him hard, so that no one else could notice, and grinned sneakily when she noticed him trying not to wince. "Dean, this is my Aunt Stacey and Uncle Harley, and this is Josh."

"Yeah, and who's he when he's at home?"

Buffy rolled her eyes at Dean's blatant rudeness. "He works here."

"Hm." Dean dismissed Josh easily with an upturned nose, and turned to Stacey and Harley. "It's so nice to meet you both," he charmed. "Any day I get to meet an extension of my bubbywubby is a good day for me."

"Aren't you just the sweetest thing!" Stacey frowned as she looked down at Buffy's hand. "Oh, but where's your engagement ring?"

"I don't have one," Buffy replied with a sad little sigh. "Dean said he'd rather spend the money on his car. He's cheap that way."

Ha freakin' ha! She'd soon show Dean he wasn't the only one who could act like a total asshole. Two could play at that game.

Dean coughed in embarrassment as the others in the room all turned to stare at him like he was some kind of movie villain. "Uhm...so anyway...there was actually a reason we stopped by..."

"Other than to catch up with my family, of course," Buffy put in.

Harley stepped forwards, concern etched onto his features. "Is everything okay? You're not in some kind of trouble, are you?"

"Not us, no." Dean removed his arm from around Buffy, instantly becoming more businesslike as they finally got down to the job at hand. He dug around inside his jacket pocket and pulled out a picture of the latest couple to have gone missing, just last year. Holding it up for them to see, he said, "They're friends of ours, but we haven't heard from them in a year. No one has. They just completely disappeared. Apparently they came through this way. You remember them at all?"

Harley took the picture to study is closer. He squinted his eyes in concentration but eventually shook his head. "Nope. Sorry, kiddo. Stacey, you remember these guys?"

"No, and I'm usually quite good with faces. Are you definitely sure it was here they passed through? There are a couple of other towns nearby."

"Pretty sure, yeah."

"Hey," Josh, who had been peering at the photo over Harley's shoulder, suddenly exclaimed. "Can I take a closer look at that?"

"Why?" Dean replied, his tone laced with hostility. "You think you've got a better memory than these two nice folks here?"

Huffing at Dean's immaturity, Buffy took the picture from her uncle and passed it to Josh, smiling an apology.

Josh studied the picture closely, and after a moment or two began to nod his head, a shine of recognition flaring in his eyes. "Yeah! Yeah, I remember them! Or I remember that guy's tattoo, anyway. It was pretty awesome. I even considered getting one myself, for a while – until I remembered that I'm a total wimp, anyway."

Dean snorted, his face filling with disgust when Buffy giggled prettily.

"Don't you remember them?" Josh continued, pointedly ignoring Dean and turning to Harley and Stacey. "They'd only just gotten married. A real nice couple."

Harley scrunched up his forehead as he tried to remember, and then began to nod, awareness dawning on his face. "That's right," he said, changing his mind far too quickly in Dean's opinion. "Yeah. They stopped by here to top up on some gas. Couldn't have hung around longer than ten, twenty minutes though."

"Do you remember anything else?" Dean questioned. "Did they mention any plans? Where they were heading to? That kind of thing."

"Not really. I mean, they asked me how to bet back onto the interstate so I pointed them in that direction. And then they just left."

"Hmm. Could you give me those same directions?"

"I sure could."


	26. Chapter 26

Scarecrow – Part Two

"He's a bit young for you, don't you think?" Dean mentioned nonchalantly as they headed over towards his car, after getting the directions and saying their goodbyes.

Buffy frowned in confusion. "What?"

"Josh. Your new little flirting buddy."

Heaving out a huff of annoyance, she stopped walking to send him a truly terrifying glare. "I was not flirting with him. And for your information, he's twenty three years old."

"Yeah, my point exactly. Too young for you."

"Hey! He totally is not! I'm not even old. And anyway, so not the point. Josh and I weren't flirting, we were talking. Having a civilized conversation. I'm sure you've heard of them."

Dean scoffed and ignored her sarcasm. "Yeah. You were just talking. Really looked that way when you were giggling all over each other like simpering school girls."

Shaking her head, Buffy continued on her way to the car. "You know, jealousy is such an ugly colour on you, Dean," she threw over her shoulder with a smirk.

He opened and closed his mouth, looking for all the world like a real, drowning goldfish. "In your dreams, buttercup," he blustered, hurrying after her and climbing into the car.

Buffy, fully ready to continue her teasing until he was about ready to explode, followed in after him. Yet anything she had been about to say was rudely interrupted when he said, "I think your aunt and uncle know a helluva lot more than they're letting on."

She glanced at him to see if he was joking, but surmised by his entirely serious and businesslike expression that he wasn't. "Are you like, completely out of your mind? Did you not just meet them in there? They're the sweetest, nicest people in the world!"

"You know as well as I do that seeming like a nice guy means nothing. People lie, Buffy."

"What is it you think they could possibly know?"

"I don't know, okay?" He sighed as he started up the car. "Look, I know they're your family and all, but that's blind-sided you. You can't afford that. I say we go check out that route they gave us and see what we can find. Think you can do that for me?"

She sat back in her seat and crossed her arms over her chest. "Fine. Whatever. We'll take a look around and do whatever you want. But you're completely crazy if you actually think they have anything to do with it. Or if they somehow know something and aren't saying. They just aren't like that."

"Well, we'll just have to wait and see, won't we, button?"

"I guess we will. And stop with all the stupid names."

"Why? Don't you like them...cherub?"

"Screw you, moron."

"Geez! Sorry...crumpet."

She harrumphed and gave up on the idea of getting him to be anything other than an aggravating dumb-ass for more than an entire minute. He was clearly just in one of those kind of moods. "Whatever. Did you speak to any of the other people in town?"

"Yep. And they were just about as helpful as I expected."

"Nothing?"

"Nope. Stubborn bunch of farmers."

"Or maybe they just don't know anything."

"Yeah, and maybe they do."

"I can tell already that this job's gonna be easy as pie."

They'd been driving down the road that Harley had sent them on for only a couple of minutes before a soft whining sound began to emit from somewhere in the back of the car.

"What the hell is that?" Buffy asked, twisting around in her seat as far as she could to take a look.

Dean frowned. "I think it's my emf detector. Can you reach it?"

She unbuckled her seat-belt and leaned over into the back seat, digging the little machine out of a pile of what she could only assume was trash – she could never tell in this car. Sitting back down, she held up the device between her index finger and her thumb, staring at it like it was a piece of junk. Which actually, it kind of was. And that was why Dean was so proud of it.

"What is it?" she wanted to know. "Some kind of evil alerty thingy? It's very annoying."

"Something like that," he replied distractedly, wondering what the hell could be causing it to go off. Here. In the middle of the road. Maybe it was broken? Nah, his creations didn't break.

He pulled over onto the side of the road and took the emf detector off of Buffy to study it closer.

After a couple of long, silent minutes had gone by, Buffy huffed in boredom and rested her forehead against the window. "Maybe your little machine just doesn't work," she suggested. "The only evil thing around here is rotten apples."

"Impossible," he muttered back. "My stuff doesn't break." He glanced up at her, puzzled. "And what the hell are you waffling on about apples for?"

"Apple orchard," she replied, bored. "All around us. Trees. With apples on. Spooky...not."

"Ew," Buffy complained, minutes later as they picked their way through the overgrown orchard. "Spooky."

"What now?" a frustrated Dean demanded. If she was going to complain about spiders again he was going to throttle the hell out of her cute little throat.

She stopped walking and pointed to a dark, shaggy looking thing hanging up in the distance. "Scarecrow. And even freakier looking than the usual kind."

"Hmm." He was intrigued. Changing direction, he began to move towards it.

Buffy tutted and followed after him, muttering, "Sure, let's get even closer to the ugly ball of hay 'cause it's just not gross enough from here," not quite under her breath.

"You're just jealous 'cause he's prettier than you."

Coming to a stop right in front of the scarecrow, Buffy unconsciously ignored Dean's comment as she stared up at the thing through thoughtful eyes. "It's too high up. I need to get a closer look at it." Spotting a ladder nearby, she dragged it over and climbed up. Her stomach began to churn horribly when she saw the strange, oh so familiar markings on the arm of the scarecrow.

Dean, who had climbed up behind her and taken out the picture of the missing couple from last year, groaned when he realized that the markings were exactly the same as that of the man's tattoo.

Both cringed, neither one of them concentrating on the closeness of their bodies – for once.

"So...still think I'm crazy thinking bad thoughts about your good old Uncle Harley and Aunt Stacey, huh?

Buffy refused point blank to talk to Dean as they made the short journey back into town. Before they had climbed into the car she had tried to reason with him, tried to make him see that her aunt and uncle could still be innocent and have no clue about the skin wearing scarecrow, but he had just scoffed at her arguments and pointed out that there were two other roads leading out of town towards the interstate, both quicker and less deadly than this one.

It was about at this time that she had stopped talking – mainly because he sort of had a point and it was kinda breaking her heart.

Not the Dean being right part – although that was a strange and new experience. It was more the consequences of him being right. Because if he was and Harley and Stacey were involved...well it was just a scenario she really didn't want to have to think about. Even though it was the only thought in her head, going round and round in repetitive circles.

She couldn't believe it. They had to be innocent. They were just so nice! And sweet, and homely, and everything an aunt and uncle should be. Everything family should be.

She shifted in her seat, holding her arms around herself even tighter, but the antsy feeling in her stomach just wouldn't go away.

By the time the pair had reached town again, they were pretty much at the end of their tethers with one another.

Dean was fed up with her silences and her denial, and Buffy his annoying jibes and his snarky, 'told you so' attitude.

Before the car had even parked up properly, Buffy had jumped straight out and walked away, straight in the direction – to Dean's intense aggravation – of that little dick, Josh.

Right, she so wasn't interested.

Yeah.

Whatever. Wasn't like he needed her anyway.

Sighing heavily at the fact that he couldn't even lie to himself convincingly, Dean tore his eyes away from Buffy and Josh's retreating backs and stormed towards the local diner, determined that he'd at least get a decent meal out of this suckhole of a town.

In actual fact, Buffy wasn't attracted to Josh in the slightest. Not to say that she didn't appreciate the fact that he was a good looking young guy – with an ass to drool over – but Dean, once again, was right. She didn't go for toy-boys – anyone would be able to tell that just by looking at her previous relationships – and at twenty three, Josh was just too young.

Also there was that other stupid asshole who'd taken up permanent residence in her head, which made even contemplating about other men just impossible.

But she knew he'd taken a shine to her, and, she was ashamed to say, she was fully prepared to use it to gather any information she could on her aunt and uncle. After all, he was the one who had lived with them for two years. If anyone would be able to judge their characters, he surely would.

After catching up to him he'd led her back to the garage where he'd gotten them both lemonade and cookies – yep, definitely too young – before joining her outside in the sun.

"They're the sweetest people I've ever met," he told her sincerely when she questioned him, looking a little surprised that she was even inquiring. "I first moved out here when my wife died in a car accident a few years ago. Ella was just a baby, and they were so good to us. They helped us out more than I could even say. I'm honestly not sure I could have gotten through it without them."

"I'm so sorry. I hadn't even realized you were widowed."

"It's not really something people expect from someone who's only twenty three. And I don't usually like to mention it."

"I understand."

"Have you...have you lost someone too?"

Buffy looked down at her fingernails, suddenly uncomfortable. "Yeah. I lost someone."

"I'm real sorry. Was he young too?"

Had Spike been young? He'd certainly lived death a lot longer than he lived life, but did that count?

"He...he still had a lot to live for. He was...I mean I...God, I'm sorry. It's just I lov...he was special to me in ways I could never describe. It's hard to talk about."

Josh nodded. "You always hear these folks in the movies talking about the glory of dying young...bunch of crap, I say."

"Totally. I'd be happy to die a wrinkly old granny. More than happy. Ecstatic. Gleeful, even."

Josh watched her carefully for a moment as he sipped on his lemonade. "And why am I sensing there's a whole other story to that?"

Buffy smiled sadly. She could hardly explain to him that for eight long years of her life she'd had to live with the shadow of death, the fear that the next birthday would be the one she wouldn't live for, and that it was only in the past couple of years that a whole bunch of superhuman chicks had sprouted up, elongating her life expectancy.

"Because you're a clever guy," she settled on in the end. "Now tell me about the rest of the town."

He chuckled at the obvious subject change, but humoured her anyway. "What can I say? It's just as great as Stace and Harley. I honestly couldn't imagine a nicer place to bring Ella up in. There hasn't been a single day since I moved here that I regretted it."

"And you've never noticed anything weird about it at all?"

"No, not really. I mean, it's a pretty lucky town, I guess, but that's just down to good farming."

"What do you mean by lucky?"

"Well, all the towns around us are kinda falling into disrepair. People are losing money, homes, work. But we're fine here. More than fine. I'd even say blessed, if I believed in that kind of thing."

"So...it's all good? There's nothing odd at all? Even that creepy scarecrow thing in the orchard down the road?"

He visibly shuddered at the mention of the scarecrow. "Okay, you got me there. As much as I'd like to spout off how perfect it all is, that really is one ugly looking guy, right? I hate it, but...keep that on the down low. The folks around town like to think he brings them luck or something. And hey, who am I to argue with tradition?"

"I guess. You think they'd do a little something to make him look friendlier though, right?" Like not dressing him up in the skin of innocents for starters. "Who owns him? I saw a house nearby the orchard..."

"Oh, that place has been empty for years. As far as I know, the scarecrow doesn't belong to anyone. He's just always been...there. Funny, huh?"

"Absolutely hilarious."

Josh's face darkened just a touch, but before she could ask what was wrong, she was covered in shadow.

"Hey there, cuddles!"

"Has anyone ever told you that you're kind of an idiot?" Buffy asked, as Dean pulled up a chair to sit down with them.

"Has anyone ever told you that that's not a nice way to talk to your fiancé?"

Buffy sighed, wishing there was a wall nearby to bang her head against. "What do you want?"

"Need to talk to you." He eyed Josh with obvious distaste. "Alone."

"Fine. Whatever." She turned to Josh and smiled sweetly, only partly doing it to piss off Dean. "It was really nice talking to you."

"Yeah, it really was. Will I see you again before you leave?"

"Sure. Maybe."

"Sorry to drag you away from your boyfriend," a snarky Dean muttered as they strolled away.

"Grow up, Dean."

"Just saying. You know he's probably in on it too, right?"

"Yeah, I bet him and his kid daughter a regular skin thieves. Probably go out at weekends looking for knives as a special, father-daughter bonding treat."

"Never know. Did you at least learn anything from tall and brainless?"

"This and that. According to him this is the only town in the area not suffering depression right now. I asked about the scarecrow but he has no idea how it got there. No one owns the thing."

"So how did it get there?"

"That's what I'd like to know."

"Hmm." Dean made a mental note to store the information away for later, when there'd no doubt be all that fun research Sam usually jumped at. "Well, when I was just in the diner-" He purposely ignored her snort of sarcastic surprise. "-I got to overhearing this couple chatting. Turns out they only stopped by here 'cause they're having car troubles."

"You think they might be in danger?"

"Fits the pattern. Young couple. Right time of year."

"What do you think we should do? Follow them?"

"I think we need to warn them. Just give them a heads up. Tell them to watch out for trouble."

Buffy frowned. "Right. And how exactly are we gonna do that without sounding like two crazy idiots?"

Dean patted her on the head condescendingly and smirked. "You just leave it to me, angel face. I'll have them outta here in no time at all."

As he walked towards the diner, Buffy raised an amused, sceptical eyebrow at his back. Now this was something she really had to see.

Faith rolled her eyes as Sam heaved yet another heavy, annoyed sigh. "Yuh know," she droned. "Sitting with a face like a slapped ass ain't gonna get us to LA any faster."

"Didn't you hear the lady? There's not another bus until tomorrow, Faith. Tomorrow!"

"Yeah, grumpy. My ears work just as well as yours do. Chill out. We'll just grab something to eat and hang. So we get there a few hours later? No big deal."

He grunted and turned away, refusing to see her point of view.

Getting seriously jacked off with his attitude, Faith eye-balled him, but although he must have felt it, he still didn't turn around. After a moment, she noticed him fingering something suspiciously cellphone shaped in his pocket, and guessed exactly why he was so stressed out.

"Just call him already," she demanded, her face softening. "Dean might be a gigantic pain in the ass, but he's still your brother."

Finally turning back to face her, Sam nodded slowly, and brought the phone out of its hiding place.

"No way! It's you!"

Now there was a voice that Faith recognized...unfortunately. She groaned audibly as the blonde bitch from that morning stood up and approached the two of them – although from the way her hungry gaze was set firmly on Sam, Faith may as well have been invisible.

Sam, on the other and, blinked in surprise. And, a surly Faith noted, pleasure.

"Hey!" he called out, standing up to greet her. "I can't believe you're here." It was with a certain note of finality that he snapped the cellphone shut and slid it back into his pocket.

"Are you seriously just gonna go out and have dinner with her?"

"Faith, I really don't understand what your problem with Meg is."

"Apart from the fact that she's a skanky ho?"

"Very mature. She's just a traveller. Pure and simple."

"I'm telling you, kid, there's something more to her. I can feel it in my bones."

Sam scoffed. "You're telling me Meg sets off that slayer radar thing you've got going on?"

"Yes! No! I don't know!"

"Yeah, I think I'm still gonna have dinner with her. Look, you know you're welcome to come, right?"

"I'd rather chew on my own butt cheeks. Why can't you just trust me on this, Sam? Why are you so blinded by her? You got a crush or something?"

The blush tingeing Sam's cheeks was more than enough of an answer for Faith, and it was with defeat and frustration that she threw her arms up into the air. "You know what, Sammy boy? Screw the absolute hell outta this! I ain't getting my ass fried just 'cause you got a boner from Miss Cow Eyes over there. I'm done."

"Faith," Sam protested weakly, watching in distress as she grabbed up her bags and hoisted them over her shoulder. "Come on! This is-"

"And you know something else?" she continued, as if he'd never even spoken. "I stuck my neck out for you. For you! Ditched my best friend and almost lost her 'cause I thought you were the smart one. Man, was I wrong! You're just as much of an asswipe as that brother of yours. See you around, kiddo."

With hunched shoulders, Sam stared after her as she stomped away.

He considered going after her. Probably should, what with their promise to stick together and all. But hey, she was the one who was walking away, not him!

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Meg smile and wiggle her fingers at him, and any thoughts of trying to reason with Faith disappeared.

That had to have been, without a doubt, the most amusing three and a half minutes of Buffy's life.

In fact, if the young couple in the diner hadn't been in some serious – potential – danger – she would have laughed out loud. Maybe even in his face.

Then again, that probably would have freaked them out even more than Dean had already.

Oh well, she'd had a good laugh on the inside at least.

Watching Dean, who was clearly just socially awkward when it came to anything other than seducing women – try and start a conversation with them had been bad enough. But the looks on their faces as he tried to warn them they were in danger...well, it was something she'd remember for a good long time. She supposed she could have stepped in and stopped him long before they'd clearly come to the conclusion that he was a creepy nut job, but...it had just been so much fun to watch.

She was just about to reassure the couple and bring them around when they were approached by the town sheriff, looking very official...and pissed off.

"Me and you need to have a little talk," he snapped at Dean.

Dean sighed and sat back in his seat. "Aw, come on man! You serious?"

"As a heart attack." He glanced over at Buffy, his expression softening fast. "Hey, I know you. You're Stace and Harley's niece, right?"

"I sure am."

"Well then. You're more than welcome to hang around. But I'm gonna have to ask your buddy the ass here to leave town. Now."

It was understandable, really.

"Afraid I'm gonna have to stick with the ass." She smiled at the sheriff to soften the blow.

"Your decision, sweetheart. You're welcome back any time though, mind, any time at all."

Any lingering doubts Sam may have been having about letting Faith walk away so easily soon vanished the more time he and Meg spent together.

It was all he could do not to beg her to stay with him and never leave him as she told him her story over dinner.

She was just like him! Every amazing little bit of her! They were both trapped inside the bubble of expectations their families had of them, families who had absolutely no clue what it was like to want something different out of life to what they'd been given. And here they were, both taking a stand.

Could she be any more perfect?

He smiled in sympathy as she talked about the family who expected her to be the perfect housewife, and felt for the first time since Jess had been murdered that maybe, just maybe, the world wasn't such a lonely place after all.

"Sooo...what now?" Buffy questioned as she and Dean drove out of town. "I mean, it's kind of hard to solve a case and save people's lives and all when you can't get anywhere near them."

Dean shrugged like there was no problem. "We wait until dark and then head on back to the orchard. I got a funny feeling that couple from the diner might be riding right through there tonight."

"What if someone sees us?"

"Then they see us. We gotta risk it or those people might die."

A short while later, once they were clear enough of the town not to risk getting Dean arrested, they pulled over to a grassy verge on the side of the road.

With a weary sigh, Dean leaned back into his seat and closed his eyes.

"You'd think considering we're tryna save their butts here, these people might make things a little easier on us," he complained.

"Why don't you go and point that out to them?" Buffy suggested, only half joking.

"Funny, Summers."

She turned in her seat and watched him for a moment. Though his eyes were closed, the lines on his face were tense. She knew without any doubt just who he was thinking about.

"You worried about him?" she asked.

"Who?"

"Sam."

"What do you think?" he replied sarcastically, snapping his eyes open to glare at her. "Kid's gonna get himself killed out there all by himself."

"He's not a kid. Or by himself."

"He's not a kid? What in the hell do you meant by that?"

"Exactly what I said. Sam isn't a child. Not in the eyes of the law, and not in the eyes of anyone else, either. He's a good hunter, Dean. He's been doing it all his life, just like you. He's smart, and he knows how to get himself out of a sticky situation. You really need to start learning to trust him more.

"It's not an issue of trust-"

Buffy scoffed. "Right. What exactly is it then? You think he can't handle himself in a fight? He learned from you, didn't he? You and your dad? And you know what, he has a few pretty damn good tricks up his own sleeve, too. He went and grew up on you, Dean, and it's about time you realized that."

Dean opened and closed his mouth, his mind blank as his brain took in her outburst, word by word.

He wanted to argue, he really did. Tell her she was crazy and that Sam needed his protection. But there was some stupid feeling deep down inside of him that was yelling out that just maybe, Buffy was right, and Sam really didn't need him any more.

Dean winced and hissed in pain as Buffy applied antiseptic to the gash he'd obtained on his shoulder.

"Damn scarecrow," he muttered.

They had gotten to the orchard earlier that night just in time to witness the scarecrow climbing down from his perch to go after the couple from the diner. They'd managed to save the couple, thankfully, but Dean had taken a nasty fall whilst trying to escape. The scarecrow would have sliced more than just his shoulder if Buffy hadn't have been there to help him get away.

And now here they were, in another motel room in one of towns nearby. Dean was sat on the edge of one of the beds, begrudgingly allowing Buffy to tend to his wounds. She was knelt just behind him, trying desperately to remain professional and ignore his extremely hot topless self as she dressed the gash.

Aw boy, she'd tried, she really had.

Once finished, she leaned forwards and placed a gentle kiss on his undamaged shoulder, her lips lingering over his warm skin.

Dean bit back a gasp of surprise and pleasure and rolled back his head. "What are you doing?"

"What do you think?" She kissed him again, this time on his neck.

He shifted around and pressed his forehead against hers, squeezing his eyes closed and taking in a deep breath. He moved his face forwards just an inch, so that their lips were just touching.

And then he brushed away the hands that had been gripping his biceps and stood up suddenly, grabbing his t-shirt and yanking it over his head. "I'm starving," he announced briskly. "I'm gonna go grab something from the snack machine."

Buffy watched him leave, sinking back onto the bed and wrapping her arms around the knees she pulled up tightly to her chest. She was pretty sure that with every step he took, her heart broke just a little bit more.

She tried harder than anything to stop the tears from falling.

And failed.

The sun was shining brightly early the next morning as Buffy and Dean strolled over to the library in the town they'd chosen to stay in.

They'd come up with a plan – a good plan! Hit the library, research the hell out of this thing, and kill it.

A simple plan really, but a good one.

Once inside the library, however, their plan didn't seem so valid. Amidst the hundreds – maybe even thousands– of books, they turned to each other with desperate, baffled expressions.

"We can do this," Buffy announced bravely, nodding her head in what was supposed to be a reassuring manner – although ended up looking more manic. "I mean, Faith and Sam do this researchy stuff all the time. If Faith can do it, I'm sure we can...right?"

"Uh...sure." Not that he believed a word of it. "Yeah. Yeah, we'll be fine. All we gotta do is...look stuff up...in books and...yeah."

"Yep. We look stuff up. Okay. Right."

"Right."

With defeated sighs, they both turned at the same time and headed over towards the librarians desk, hoping there's be someone in this joint who could point them in the right direction.

"I've got it!" Dean declared almost an hour later, the excitement practically oozing out of his pores. "Ha! Who's the smart brother now, huh?"

Buffy gratefully slammed shut the dusty volume she had been attempting to read. "Oh thank God. What do you know?"

"Mr Creepy ain't a scarecrow, not really."

"So what is he?"

"A God."

As he continued to study his book, Dean didn't catch the way that Buffy's skin suddenly turned a pale, sickly white, nor the way that her shaking fingers grasped the table top.

"What makes you say that?" she asked, her voice unsteady.

"Well technically it's a Pagan God, but you know what I mean. Man, I can't believe we didn't see it before! It's been staring us in the face this whole time – the annual killing cycle, always a man and a woman. Frikkin' duh! There's no way it could be anything but a Pagan God."

Buffy was silent for a moment, before standing up suddenly. The chair she had been sitting on tipped onto its side. "Fuck!"

Dean glanced up in surprise, unused to hearing that kind of foul language from her. "What's wrong?"

She couldn't even look him in the face, choosing instead to dart her eyes around the room, anxiously. "Nothing."

He would have questioned her further, but not a second later she kicked out furiously at her fallen chair, her strength sending it shooting straight across the library room.

The other library visitors watched her is shock and horror, and the librarian stood up in outrage, but didn't move from behind her desk in fear.

Buffy didn't seem to notice any of this, and neither did Dean. All he could do was watch in open mouthed surprise as she stormed from the library, her white knuckled fists clenched tightly at her sides.

It took him almost a whole minute to gather his wits together and run after her, and when he got outside, she had already completely vanished. He was unsurprised when she didn't answer her cellphone, and in desperate need of some answers, he called the second to last person he wanted to speak to right now.

"Yo!" Faith answered on the first ring.

"Faith, it's Dean-"

"No shit, idiot. They call it caller ID for a reason. What do you want?"

So she was still pissed a him, huh? Great. Women were such stubborn bitches. "Buffy's gone MIA on me. It wasn't long ago so I haven't had an all out search for her yet. I just need some info from you first."

"Info about what exactly? And what the hell do you mean she's MIA? What did you do?"

"What, you just assume it's my fault?"

"It usually is. Get on with it."

He sighed heavily. "We were researching the case – you remember that, right? The one you bailed on?"

"I haven't got all day, douchebag."

"Fine. We were researching the case and we found out we're dealing with some kind of Pagan God thing and-"

"Aw, balls," Faith moaned, causing Dean to pause mid speech.

"What? What's so bad about a Pagan God? They're actually not too hard to gank, surprisingly."

"You don't know about Glory, do you?"

"Glory who?"

He heard Faith cast a weary sigh down the other end of the phone.

"Okay," she said. "I think you'd better make sure you're sitting down..."

Dean slid down the brick wall of the library, resting his forehead on his knees and trying desperately to find the air to breathe.

Buffy had died.

She had died!

Every time the sentence rotated through his mind it felt like a blow to the chest, like someone had hit him in the stomach with a baseball bat and knocked all the air out of him.

She had really died. And not just the couple of seconds kind, either – although she had done that too, apparently.

She'd died. Had been dead. For months!

He wanted to be sick. Sick with the thought that she had gone through that. God, the thought of losing her...the thought of her ever not being there...

He was damned glad he wasn't in her life back then. He was pretty sure that he wouldn't have been able to survive.

"Hey bastard face, you still there?" Faith asked down the phone.

He shook his head and came back down the earth. "Uh...yeah...sorry. So...you think she'll just come back when she's had a chance to calm down?"

"For sure. I mean, this is B we're talking about here, man. No way is he just gonna bail out on a case and leave you knee deep in it."

She was right. Buffy would never do anything to put innocent lives at risk. "Yeah, okay. So, uh...how's...you know?"

"Sam?"

"Yeah."

Faith peered behind the large pillar she had been using as a hiding spot for the past hour, chewing her lip as she watched Sam sitting very closely with that bitch, Meg, against a wall in the bus station. The bus was due in only a few hours, and it looked like they were becoming very fast friends as they waited.

He had no idea she was even there, the jerk.

Smiling to her pitiful self, she shook her head at his naivety. As if she'd ever just walk away and leave him when she'd promised to stick my him while they searched for his father. She may be a hot head, but she wasn't that much of a bitch. Any more.

"Sam's doing fine," she acknowledged. "Just fine."

Dean found Buffy, eventually, and it didn't even take him that long to do it. She had escaped to a little woodland area near the motel and was repeatedly punching the trunk of a tree, giving her now bloody knuckles one hell of a bashing.

It was just a good job she had all that nifty slayer healing, Dean mused, wincing as he spotted the splatters of blood on fallen leaves on the floor. He closed his eyes, trying hard to force away the painful ache in his chest.

When he was able to swallow the ache down – enough so that he could speak, anyway – he moved up behind her, silently, and slid his hands over her shoulders. Gently, he moved one down her arm and around her wrist, forcing her to stop her assault, both on the tree and herself.

"It'll be different this time," he promised, resting his cheek against hers. "This guy's no way near as powerful as that hell bitch you took down in Sunnydale. We'll find a way to stop him so that nobody gets hurt. Nobody. Especially not you."

Buffy's blood, which had been racing through her veins hard and fast, began to calm at the sound of his soothing voice. She turned to face him, wishing more than anything that he would take her into his arms, brush away her anxiety with his warm fingers. But after the way he'd treated her ever since they took this case, she knew it was about as likely to happen as the scarecrow hopping off of his perch and declaring that he was actually Santa.

"I should go talk to my aunt and uncle," she announced. "They could still be innocent in all of this."

Dean nodded, although there wasn't even the smallest part of him that believed it. "Yeah, sounds like a plan. I'll drop you off as close to town as I can risk without being run out again."

"Thanks. What are you gonna do while I'm there?"

"Apparently there's a community college around here somewhere. I was thinking I could go have a talk with one of the professors. I bet one of them's gotta know something about Pagan Gods."

"Just...I'm proud of you, Sammy...Yeah, I mean it...Promise me you'll take care of yourself?..Okay. Call me when you find Dad."

Buffy watched on in pride as Dean finished up his emotional phone conversation with Sam. She couldn't believe he'd really done it. He'd actually listened to something she'd had to say – something important – and taken it in and really thought about it, accepted that an opinion that wasn't his may be right. An then he'd gone and bitten the bullet and actually called Sam up, shared...emotional thoughts with his brother.

It was really quite beautiful.

She looked down tenderly at the large hand clasping tightly onto hers and squeezed it comfortingly.

"Who was that?" Meg questioned Sam as he snapped his phone shut, a humbled look on his face.

"Uh...that was my brother. Or at least someone doing a pretty good impression of his voice."

"Oh. What did he want?"

"To say...goodbye."

Meg moved to sit behind him, placing an oh so comforting hand on his shoulder as she forced her smirk to stay down. If the other slayer hadn't of been watching them so carefully, she would have rolled her eyes at his poor little puppy dog tone of voice.

For Faith's benefit, Meg slid her hand down Sam's arm, making sure to move even closer to him. "It'll be okay," she soothed. "It'll all be okay."

Buffy and Josh were chatting about his daughter when her aunt and uncle arrived back at the garage, looking decidedly solemn. She cringed, realizing that they must have heard about what had happened with Dean.

She saw them shoot each other a troubled glance, before wiping their faces blank and sending her enormous smiles.

"Buffy, hon," Harley began excitedly. "You're back! And so soon!"

Stacey bustled past her husband into the room and slipped an arm around Buffy's shoulder. "Well I am glad. And I was just about to serve some nice apple pie. Can I tempt you with a slice?"

Dean groaned as his eyes slowly opened and his focus began to return. He rubbed a sore spot on his head and looked around. Where the hell was he? And how had he got here? And had he been asleep?

He cursed as the memories started seeping back into his mind. Damned professor had knocked him out! Or had it been the sheriff? Either way, he was pissed!

Carefully, he sat up, peering around his surroundings to try and gauge exactly where it was the assholes had dumped him. Seemed to be some kind of cellar, if the smell of mould and the empty crates were anything to go by. The only way out appeared to be the hatch in the ceiling, but it was too high up to reach and obviously, they hadn't left him with a ladder.

Hearing a noise come from outside the hatch, he jolted, and reached down automatically for his gun. "Shit!" he expressed angrily when he realized the thieving douchebags must have taken it.

The hatch opened and – not at all to Dean's surprise – Buffy's uncle appeared above him.

"Hey!" he called up to him. "Let me out of here you stupid son of a bitch!"

Harley shook his head sadly. "You should have just left all alone, Dean." He blinked unhappily. "Catch."

"Wha-" Dean didn't even have time to finish his question before an unconscious body was dropped down into the hatch towards him. Stumbling slightly, he caught it, and then cursed furiously when he realized that it was Buffy. "What the hell did you do to her, you freak worshipping bastards?!"

When none of them answered – not that he was exactly expecting it – Dean huffed indignantly and dropped down to his knees, carefully laying Buffy out on his jacket on the floor. He checked her pulse – which was steady, thank God – and her breathing, which was nice and even. Just unconscious then. Probably knocked out, like him.

He glared up into the closing hatch. "She's your family, dammit! Doesn't that mean anything to you? I don't care about me but why the hell are you doing this to her?"

Dean was sure he could have sworn that for just one moment, the expression on Harley's face was almost...regretful, but within moments it was back to a blank mask. "For the common good," he replied.

And then the hatch slammed shut.


	27. Chapter 27

Scarecrow – Part Three

Sam sighed, his stomach tight with frustration and worry, as Dean's cell went straight to voice mail...again. He tried Buffy's – for the nth time – and got the same response.

"Hey, Sam!" he heard Meg call out excitedly from behind him. "Our bus is here. Finally! Better get a move on, big boy, or we'll end up getting stuck in this crappy place for another night. I've been a good girl so far but I'm just not sure I'd be able to keep my hands to myself if we were here much longer."

He didn't even seem to hear what she'd said, let alone react to her suggestive remarks. "I'm not coming." He glanced up from his phone just in time to watch the smirk on her face turn into a horrified grimace.

"Sam?" she began. "What do you mean you're not coming? The bus is here. Now. You know, the one we've been waiting around here all night for?"

"It's just...I've been trying to get a hold of my brother for the past three hours and nothing. It's like he's just vanished."

"So what? You two said goodbye, right? Maybe this is his way of showing he meant it?"

"But I can't get hold of my friend, either. The girl he's with."

Meg grinned knowingly. "Maybe they're...busy."

It took Sam a moment to realize just what she was implying, and when he did, he blushed in horror at the thought of his big brother doing...that. There were just some images that didn't need a place in his brain. "What? No! No. They're not together...like that. They're just friends, so they wouldn't be doing...whatever. It has to be something else. Something bad. They wouldn't just switch off their phones like this, not unless something went wrong. I have to go back."

She blanched at his final statement. "Are you being serious? Sam! After all that stuff you told me about your brother? Have you forgotten about that already? You're really just gonna drop everything to run back to him just because the guy hasn't charged up his cell?"

He shook his head, knowing that there was just no way that he could make Meg understand. No way that he could tell her, explain it to her with explaining all that other stuff. And he did not have time to be accused of being crazy right now. "Look, I...I don't want you to miss the bus. Like you said, it's about to go. You should get on."

Her wide eyes became water rimmed as she stared disbelievingly up at him. "Sam...please. Just come with me. Come with me now. To California. Just like you were going to before."

Sam felt his heart plunge right into his belly, and knew that she would be one new friend that he would definitely be sad to lose. "I'm sorry, Meg. I just...I can't. I have to go back."

"Why?" She looked down towards the ground and scuffed the toe of her boot against the concrete.

"Because he's my brother. Family. And so is the girl he's with. If they need my help, I'll always be there to give it to them."

Her face was resigned when she looked back up at him. "Then I guess this is goodbye, Sammy."

He nodded regretfully. "I guess it is." He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. "Look, I have to leave kind of...right now. There's someone important I have to go and find."

"No need, Sammy boy," said a leather clad figure, stepping out of the shadows with a gigantic grin on its big red lips. "I'm right here."

Less than half an hour later, Sam found himself hot-wiring a much too flashy car – he would have gone for something more inconspicuous, but Faith had insisted – with the girl in question stood anxiously behind him, impatiently tapping her foot on the ground.

"Faith," he started, ducking his head. "I wanted to...I just...I'm-"

"No need to apologize," she acknowledged, waving a dismissive hand through the air. "Just promise me you won't be such a jerk next time a hot piece of ass walks by."

Sam smiled, bashfully.

When Buffy opened her eyes, she was confused as to why everything appeared so blurry, and why there was a gentle hand running its fingers through her hair.

"Hey, sleepyhead," came Dean's voice from above her. "How're you feeling?"

She realized that her head was resting on his outstretched legs and, ignoring her dizziness, hurried to sit up, embarrassed to be caught so vulnerable in front of him. Her confusion didn't ease any when she glanced around the dark, dank room they were occupying. "Woozy," she answered his question. "Where are we? What happened?"

His heart heavy in his chest, Dean filled her in on the epic betrayal of her aunt and uncle, hating the way her skin paled the longer he spoke.

She watched him talk, her mouth dropping open as she processed his words. "No," she announced finally. "No way. Aunt Stacey and Uncle Harley...they wouldn't do this to me. They wouldn't do it to anyone, let alone me."

Dean sighed with a mixture of sadness and impatience. "Sweetheart, I know you don't wanna believe this, but I watched your uncle throw you in here. Hell, I caught you with my own two arms while he was locking us in."

She shook her head and scooted back a couple of feet, backing herself up against the wall and bringing her knees up to her chest. Dean let her go, knowing that she needed the time and the space to sort out the jumble of thoughts tumbling around in her head.

Long minutes past though, and he could bear the silence no longer. "So, did they knock you over the head too?"

She glanced up from where she had been scratching at a patch of dirt on the floor, fire and anger burning in her eyes. "No!" she answered. "They spiked my apple freakin' pie! Who does that?! It's like...a crime against good pie! What, am I Snow White now or something?"

"You looked more like Sleeping Beauty to me."

She blushed. "I said or something."

Dean smirked and sat back, cringing as he felt the dirt of the floor grate against his hands. "You think you're strong enough to break us the hell outta here?"

Buffy peered up at the hatch in the ceiling hopefully, but her face dropped within seconds. "No, it's way too high up. I wouldn't be able to get any power into it. Besides, the hatch looks to thick, anyway."

"Guess we're gonna be stuck down here for a while, then. Or at least until the residents of crazy town decide it's time to feed us to their god of straw."

"Mmhmm." She scooted sideways and pulled herself up onto a crate that had been left sitting next to the wall, leaning her head back wearily.

Dean, frustrated by the situation they were stuck in and unable to keep still, stood up and began to pace, clenching and un-clenching his fists.

She watched him for a while, fascinated by the way his t-shirt would pull tighter over his muscles whenever he tensed, before realizing that she was behaving like a hormonal teenager and dropping her head into her hands tiredly. "So," she began after a couple of minutes had passed. "My aunt and uncle wanna sacrifice us to a scarecrow, huh?"

Dean paused and moved over to the opposite wall, leaning against it to watch her carefully. "Pretty much, yeah."

"Did you get one of those professors to help you figure out how to kill it?"

"Yeah, actually. The old guy was surprisingly helpful before he had me beaten around the head and tossed in a deep, dark hole." He shook his head disgustedly. "We have to burn down some sacred tree, which I'm guessing is in the orchard."

She rolled her eyes. "So all we have to do is find this tree? In that big ol' field full of trees? Sounds like a picnic."

"Well, there's that or plan B."

"And what's plan B?"

"We die."

"Huh." She swallowed hard, trying to force the burning tears of betrayal to stay in place, to cease from falling. "God!" she burst out. "Can Celia's death really have screwed them up this much? I know it hurt, but they killpeople! Every single year. Innocent people, just so their apples grow extra big and shiny. They're so...so...sick!"

"I'm sorry," was all he could think of replying. After all, he mused, she was right.

"No," she mumbled, returning her face to her hands, "I'm the one who's sorry."

Dean frowned, his confusion evident. "Why are you sorry? You didn't lock us down here."

She shrugged helplessly and removed her hands from her face so that she could wrap her arms around her knees defensively. "Well, I'm sorry you're stuck down here with me for one thing."

He took an involuntary step forwards, baffled by her words. "With you? What's wrong with being stuck down here with you?"

She rested her cheek on the tips of her knees to avoid looking at him and shrugged. "I'm not stupid, Dean. It's become blatantly obvious these past couple of days that you really don't like me very much, despite what you said before. So I'm sorry that, out of everyone, I'm the one you got stuck down here with."

With a groan, Dean stepped back over to the wall to bang his head against it. Turning back around, he rubbed his hands over his face harshly. Finally he stilled and dropped his arms to his sides. "You didn't leave!"

Buffy lifted her head and cocked it. "What?"

Beginning to pace once again, Dean continued. "Everyone else left! Every single other person in my damned life left me! Sam left. Dad left. Sam left again! Hell, even Faith went and left on me! But...not you. You're the one person in my whole goddamned life who hasn't walked out on me, okay? I mean, I have been the biggest asshole to you these past couple of days – I know that! And yet you still didn't leave me! I just...I just..." His voice trailed off, hopelessly.

"I thought you were being that way 'cause you didn't want me around any more," Buffy admitted, her tone quiet.

Dean felt his heart shatter into a million pieces, and cursed himself for making her feel this way. He stepped forwards and dropped to his knees in front of the crate she was sitting on, taking both of her hands in his. "Baby, you are the only one in the whole world I feel I can rely on right now. The only one. I know I've been pushing you away...I guess in my own idiot way I thought if I did it would hurt less when you eventually didleave me." He ducked his head as his voice became choked. "But all this time and you didn't go. You never left me. And I've just been being a total dick to you when all I really wanna do is kiss you and touch you and hold you and...and tell you how damned crazy I am about you..."

"Crazy about me?" Buffy whispered, her heart filled to the brim with overwhelming emotions, and her eyes pooling with tears.

"God, yes. In every kind of way. And I'm talking about the sweet, dreaming about you every night and day kind of crazy, and the mental, going out of my mind when I don't get to see you for a whole five minutes kind of crazy. Seriously. The whole shebang."

When Buffy giggled sweetly, Dean took it to be a good sign that he was somehow managing to fix the stupid little mess he'd created, and with a smirk, he tugged at her hands so that she fell forwards off the crate and onto his lap. Just like he hoped she would, she shifted a little, straddling him and wrapping her arms and legs around him.

"Just promise me something?"

"Anything."

She pressed her forehead against his. "No more stupid games. No...pushing away."

"And no more hiding things from each other. We have something to say, we say it."

Buffy kissed him in agreement, and with a happy moan, Dean pulled them both backwards to fall on the floor.

Buffy wasn't sure how much time had passed as she pulled her panties back on, a satisfied smile on her face. With a giggle, she watched as Dean crawled in circles, looking for his missing sock.

"That was kinda dirty," he boasted proudly, finally finding his sock and pulling it on.

"Well duh. That's what happens when you sex it up on a cellar floor."

He smirked and winked. "Didn't mean that kind of dirty."

Buffy blushed and pulled on her jeans. "I know."

Minutes later, when they had thankfully found and put on all of their clothes, they heard a sound from above, and glanced up just in time to watch the hatch reopen. Half a dozen shotgun wielding townsfolk were nudging each other aside to peer in.

"Come on now, honey," Stacey called down sadly, throwing down the rope ladder. "It's time to go."

With six ominous looking guns being carefully pointed in their direction – and Dean's unfortunately missing in action – Buffy and Dean had no choice but to allow the people of the town to lead them to the orchard and chain them to large trees.

"How could you do this?" Buffy demanded furiously of her aunt. "How could you kill all these people?"

Before Stacey could reply, the sheriff bustled in front of her and leaned in towards Buffy's face. "We don't kill them."

"No," a disgusted Dean commented. "You just lead them right up to death's door and then clean up his mess when he's done."

"And what about me?" Buffy interjected, still focused on her aunt. "I mean, I'm family! Your own flesh and blood! If you don't even have the humanity in you to care about innocent strangers, don't you at least care about that?"

"Oh, sweetheart! Of course I care, we all do. But you and your fiancé went and ruined everything for us this year, so we really have no choice. We have to do this. It's what sacrifice means."

Buffy jolted forwards in anger at Stacey's words, but her movements were halted by the heavy chains. "You think I don't know what sacrifice means, you stupid idiots?" she cried, remembering Glory all too well. "I know more about sacrifice than you could ever imagine! It's about protecting people, keeping them safe! Keeping your family safe! Not feeding people to stupid scarecrow gods just to make your crops grow bigger!"

Her aunt shook and dropped her head solemnly. "You could never possibly hope to understand, my dear."

As the townsfolk, secure in the knowledge that Buffy and Dean were securely chained up, began to drift away, Buffy threw out a few curses after them that had even Dean impressed.

But not a single one of them looked back.

"You might as well save your voice," Dean expressed after a few loud moments. "You're probably gonna need it later. For, you know, screaming in agony and stuff when the scarecrow is slicing off your skin to wear."

She stopped her yelling and turned to glare at him, her eyes narrowed and cross. "Fine. So tell me, smart guy, what's the plan?"

"Uhm...I'm working on it?"

"Great," she huffed. "We're gonna die."

Dean pouted sulkily. "Why do I have to be Mr Plan Man, anyway? Why couldn't you have thought up a plan before we got chained to these trees?"

With a pretty blush, she looked away pointedly. "Well, I was a little bit occupied at the time, in case you've forgotten."

He nodded his head and blew her a kiss. "Damned straight you were."

"Yeah, 'cause now is so the time for you to start bragging."

"Fine. What about that freaky super strength of yours, huh? Couldn't you have used it to fight them off? They're just a bunch of dumb farmers. Wouldn't have been a match for either of us."

"A bunch of dumb farmers with some very shiny looking guns."

"Good point." He sighed, and then perked up slightly. "What about now? Can you break free now?"

She rolled her eyes at his constant, pointless questions. "Hello! I'm chained to a big frikkin' tree here! With like, actual chains. Lots of them. Big fat metal chains. I'm strong and all, but I'm not superman."

Dean hummed in disappointment

"All out of plans?" Buffy asked dryly, when he failed to speak any further.

"Yup."

Josh watched, his arms folded tightly across his chest, as a handful of serious looking townspeople – hisneighbours – huddled back through town, shotguns at their sides. Owning and carrying guns wasn't unusual for a town like this, but he'd never witnessed them all out in a group together like that before.

He frowned. Now that he thought about it, everyone in town had been acting suspicious all day. Jumpy, afraid.

His heart began to thud as he spotted a pile of chains in the sheriff's hands. What the hell did they need themfor?

There was something seriously weird going on here.

With his stomach churning uncomfortably, he moved swiftly into Ella's room and packed up a bagful of her belongings.

"Poppa? Wuzgoin' on?" she questioned sleepily as he picked her sleeping body up from her bed.

"You're going to spend the night with Johnny and Olivia. You remember Daddy's friends from the next town over? You liked them, right?"

"But I'm sleepy."

"Then you go right on back to sleep, honey," he instructed soothingly, wrapping her up in a blanket and picking up her bag and heading for the stairs. "You go back to sleep and when you wake up tomorrow, this'll all be over."

By the time Josh arrived back in town after dropping Ella off with friends, it was already beginning to get dark. "Right," he mumbled to himself, determined to get to the bottom of what exactly was going on.

He climbed out of his car, raising an eyebrow at the brunette couple having a heated conversation no more than a couple of feet away. He'd never seen them around town before, but now was not the time to be friendly and ask if they needed help.

About to head over to the sheriff's office to demand some answers, he jolted in surprise when the woman of the brunette couple suddenly appeared besides him and grasped a hold of his arm.

"Hey, you," she snapped. "You live around here?"

A little afraid of her fierce expression, he nodded slowly. "I do...why?"

"We're looking for some friends of ours. Maybe you've seen 'em? Little blonde chick and a smartass with a helluvanass?"

"Are you talking about Buffy and Dean?"

Her face brightened instantly, and the tight grip she'd had on his arm lessened somewhat. "Yeah, kid, that's right! Man, that's such a relief. I was worried no one would have seen them. Are they here? Whereabouts? Damn idiots aren't picking up their cellphones."

"Uh...well, I saw Buffy just this morning in the garage." He pointed down the road to where Harley's sign was just visible. "I work there for her aunt and uncle. But then Harley asked me to go out and run an errand and by the time I got back she'd already left. Stacey said she'd had to take off quickly. No time for goodbyes, you know?"

The man of the brunette couple, who had joined them midway through Josh's explanation, looked at his companion with worry. "What about the guy?" he demanded of Josh. "Dean? What about him?"

"Oh, he was hassling some customers in the diner yesterday, so the sheriff had to escort him outta town. I guess Buffy must have joined him, right?"

The man glanced at the woman again. "Well?"

"They wouldn't have just bailed on a case, Sam. Even if Dean did get kicked outta town he'd have found a way back in."

Josh, who had been watching them closely, took a step closer to the couple. "Look, is there something going on, here? What case are you talking about? Are Buffy and Dean undercover cops or something?"

"Hey, thanks for the info, kid, you've been a real sport," the woman said patronizingly, clearly trying to brush him off. "Now don't you worry your pretty little head about it. Go on home and we'll sort everything out."

"What? No! Wait!" he called out after them as they turned around to leave. "I know there's something going on around here, so don't you dare try and blow me off on this. Buffy and Dean were asking all kinds of weird questions while they were in town, and I know some of the folks around here didn't like it. And now you say they haven't been answering their phones? They're missing? I've just left my kid with some pals a whole town over because I can tell there's something bad going down here. So stop treating me like a dumb child, because I deserve the right to know the truth, okay? Tell me what the hell is going on!"

The man – Sam, Josh was guessing – and the woman turned back around, eyeing each other in surprise and defeat.

Finally, the woman turned to Josh, looking slightly impressed. "Fine, you want in? I need you to show us the way to the orchard."

"Soo...you come up with a new plan yet?" Buffy sang out, after she and Dean had been chained up for...well, it had gotten dark so she was guessing a while.

He huffed and rattled at his chains. "Working on it, angel-face, working on it."

She moaned sadly and stuck out her bottom lip. "Don't wanna be all skinless and gooey and dead."

Dean chuckled at her childish tone and sent a smouldering glance her way. "You'd still be the most beautiful girl in the whole wide world even if you didn't have any skin."

"Aw!" Buffy melted inside. "That's the grossest romantic thing anyone's ever said to me!"

"I know, right?" He smirked, looking all too proud of himself. "Hey...we're totally having a moment here, aren't we?"

"We went over this time and place stuff already, didn't we?" Yet Buffy couldn't help but smile. "What's the status on Mr Scarecrow?"

He stretched his neck around, cursing when the only results he gained was a cramp. "Can't see him from here."

"Crap, me neither. What time do you think he-" She stopped talking abruptly when the sound of a loud rustle came from somewhere behind them."

"Holy mothering Jesus!" Dean whispered, and began to yank on his chains with much more gusto.

"At least last time I died pretty," Buffy muttered under her breath.

With his heart pounding for more than one reason, Dean stopped tugging at his chains and turned as much as he could to face Buffy, his face pale and nervous. "Sweetheart, I...Just in case we die here, I want you to know that I...I...Uh, you're the best sex I ever had." He swore at himself silently for being such a damn coward, and for losing his nerve and opting out of saying the thing he really wanted to say.

Buffy was about to reply when they heard a shout from nearby.

"Dean?" a male voice yelled. "Buffy? Are you here?"

Everything inside Dean melted with intense relief at the sound of his brother's voice, and he made a mental note to buy the kid a freakin' crown. "Sammy? That you? Oh, thank God! We're over here!" When Sam appeared through a set of trees, Dean felt that for the first time in his entire life, he could have hugged him and not wanted to puke.

"Wow," came the sound of Faith's voice as she and Josh – what the hell? - followed Sam. "Kinky. What is this guy? The god of naughty bondage?"

"It's a long and very weird story," Buffy retorted. "Think you could help us out here?"

"Sure. Got my trusty axe." Faith held up said object with a happy grin.

Eyeing her warily, Josh took a little step away.

Faith laughed, openly enjoying his obvious fright. She moved behind the tree Buffy was chained up to and had the metal off within less than a minute.

"Wow," Josh blurted. "You're like...really strong."

She shrugged nonchalantly as she repeated her actions on Dean's chains. "It's a whole destiny thing. You know the drill."

"No I don't."

"Whatever."

Pulling the chains off of themselves, Buffy and Dean thanked Faith, gratefully.

"I really thought we were gonna die out here for a moment," Buffy admitted.

"Okay, seriously now, what the hell is going on?" Josh demanded, the situation clearly beginning to sink in and cause him to freak out. "Faith, I thought you were yanking my chain about the scarecrow! But you're not, are you?"

Dean glared at Sam, pissed off. "You told him? Him?"

Sam shrugged helplessly in reply. "We didn't really have that much of a choice. He was minutes away from figuring the whole thing out for himself and going out alone and getting himself into trouble. Besides, he's the one who helped us find you. You'd probably be scarecrow food by now if it wasn't for him."

"Oh." Feeling awkward and stupid, Dean turned to Josh and slapped him on the arm, coughing gruffly. "Uh...thanks...I guess. For the whole, saving our lives thing. Appreciate it, man."

"As touching as this guy love moment really is, we should really get outta here before the scarecrow comes down off his perch and cuts us all up," Buffy pointed out.

Sam glanced around. "Where is his perch?"

"Right over..." Dean's sentence trailed off miserably as he raised his eyes to find an empty, lonely looking perch. He whipped his head around to face Buffy, who was watching the same spot as he was with approaching horror. "Okay, kiddies, time to go."

"This isn't happening, this isn't happening, I can't believe this is happening," Josh murmured to himself as they jogged out of the orchard. "It's sick, it's crazy. You guys are crazy. No...wait! The townspeople are crazy!"

"I think we broke your boyfriend," Dean crooned to Buffy, his amusement evident.

"Idiot."

"So what we need to do is destroy this ancient tree?" Sam questioned breathlessly. "Because it's the source of the scarecrow's power?"

"Something like that," Dean replied. "But not now. We'll come back in the morning when it's safer. This guy is way too strong, even for us."

The sound of several guns clicking stopped the group in their tracks. They huddled together as members of the town appeared from between the trees, furious looks on their faces as they aimed their guns in their direction, completely surrounding them and blocking off all possible chances of escape.

"Aw, come on!" Dean mumbled. How could these dumb-ass farmers get the jump on him twice?

Another sound, this time most definitely supernatural, sounded from somewhere nearby, and there wasn't a single person in the orchard who failed to shiver in fear.

"Oh God, oh Jesus," Josh whispered loudly. He glared at Stacey and Harley, betrayal in his eyes. "How could you do this? I trusted you, all of you! How could you do this? Kill innocent people? Try and hurt me? Buffy? I don't understand! Don't any of you get how wrong this is? How messed up it is?"

Harley sighed and shook his head. "I'm afraid it's you who doesn't understand, son. You need to let this happen, for the good of the town. Now, he'll only take two of you, I promise. That's all he wants. But we just can't let the rest of you go. You'd tell the-" A large scythe scythe suddenly appeared through his chest, effectively cutting off his speech as his mouth filled with blood.

Stacey shrieked, her scream growing louder when a leathery arm wrapped itself around her neck. The dark, shadowy form of the scarecrow became visible as Harley's dead body dropped to the floor, and the remaining townsfolk began to flee, screeching in horror and terror.

"Come on," Faith yelled urgently, grasping Josh's arm and yanking him to follow her. "We need to go. Now!"

But Buffy, who could still see her aunt and uncle being dragged mercilessly away by the scarecrow, made to go after him, determined that she could save them. Seeing her movements, Dean wrapped his arms around her waist to stop her. "It's too late," Dean cried desperately. "I'm so sorry. It's too late for them. You can't fight this thing. We can't fight this thing, not like this. Please, baby, we need to go. We need to get out of here!"

Thankfully, his words seemed to get through to her, because she stilled, and allowed him to pull her with him to chase after the others.

The silence that filled the motel room later that night was awkward and stilted. Buffy wasn't talking – not that anyone had any clue about just what to say to her anyway. She'd perched herself on the edge of her bed, her hands clasped tightly together on top of her knees as she stared down unseeingly at a frayed piece of rug.

Josh had left an hour before, choosing to spend the night with his friends, wanting to be as close to Ella as possible. No one blamed him.

Buffy stood up quickly, causing the remaining three in the room to stare up at her.

"You okay, B?" Faith asked carefully.

Buffy looked at her, blinking. Her expression was surprised, like she'd forgotten that she wasn't alone in the room. "Yeah. I just...need some air."

"Okay." Faith nodded in acceptance.

"She forgot her jacket," Dean piped up once they'd watch her walk out of the room. "I uh...better go give it to her."

"I think she kinda just wants to be alone right now," Faith pointed out.

He stood up anyway and gathered up the jacket. "Yeah, I know. I get that. I'll just take this out to her and get out of her way. Wouldn't want her getting cold or anything."

He was out of the room before either Faith or Sam could protest any further.

Dean found Buffy not to far away from the motel, sitting on a wooden bench with her arms wrapped around her torso.

"Thanks," she expressed quietly when he offered her the jacket. She laid it down carefully on her knees and looked away, pointedly.

But he refused to take the obvious hint. Instead, he stepped closer and sat down next to her on the bench. "Come on," he encouraged gently. "We're not doing the whole shutting out thing any more, remember? We have something to say, we tell each other. Yeah?"

For a moment, he was worried that he'd said the wrong thing, pushed her to hard and caused her to climb back into her shell, but when she finally turned to him, her eyes were filled not only with tears, but trust.

"It's just that...sometimes I don't understand the world," she mumbled hoarsely. "I don't get what it is I'm supposed to be fighting for. Who I'm supposed to be fighting for. People don't want to be saved, Dean. Humans are...they're worse than the monsters." Her voice cracked and her tears fell, and Dean could do nothing but pull her into his arms. She buried her face in his chest as she cried. "What am I gonna tell Dawn? What am I gonna tell my dad?"

He rocked her gently and softly kissed the top of her head. "You tell them whatever you think's best, beautiful. And whether that's the truth or some made up story to make them seem less evil...that's up to you. It doesn't matter." He squeezed his arms tighter around her. "Don't you go giving up on me now, you hear me? There's still reasons to fight, still people who need our help. Like Josh and Ella. They're the ones who deserve it. And hell, we'll still do it even for the ones who don't. Because that's who we are. That's who you are. A fighter. You fight because you know it's right."

She gave him a watery smile as she looked up at him, trailing one of her hands along his stubbly jaw. "How is it that you always know what to say to make me feel better?"

Instead of answering her, he kissed her.

She kissed him back. Hard.

The next morning, the foursome and Josh rode to the orchard for what they all hoped was the last time. They stood in a little circle, the task ahead of them weighing upon their shoulders.

"I can't freakin' believe this," Faith moaned. "We have to find this one tree? In all of these stupid trees? This is gonna take forever. Shoulda let the scarecrow have me."

"It's that one there," Josh informed them blankly, pointing.

Faith looked impressed. "Huh."

"Look, it has all these weird etchings on it," he explained further. "People in town were always going nuts over it. I guess now we know why."

Sam emptied a tub of fuel over the tree, and Dean held out a lighter to Buffy. "Want the honours?"

She shook her head. "Let Josh do it."

Dean shrugged and held the lighter out to Josh, who looked at it wearily.

"So, I do this, the whole town gets destroyed, right?" he asked.

"That about sums it up, yeah."

Josh took the lighter out of Dean's hand with determination. "Good."

"I'm sorry my aunt and uncle turned out to be creepy murdering freaks," Buffy stated dully to Josh as she helped him carry his and Ella's bags over to his bus.

"Not your fault."

"I know. But even so, I'm still sorry you had to get caught up in all of this. You're a good guy, you don't deserve to have something like this scar you."

"Really, it's okay. I mean, it's not...and I doubt I'll be getting over it in like, ever...but..."

"I know, I get it. Really. So...what are you gonna do now?"

He puffed out his cheeks and sighed. "I think I'm gonna go back home. To my real family. It's time for Ella to get to know them."

Buffy nodded. "I hope everything goes well for you, I really do."

"Yeah, you too. And hey, thank you."

"All we have is each other," Sam told Dean, as he explained that he would in fact be sticking around after all, and not heading back out to California to find their dad. "If we're gonna find him, then we need to do it together. We need to be a team."

Dean sniffed loudly and pulled a face, wiping away an imaginary tear from his eye. "That was just...beautiful, Sammy. Just beautiful."

"You're such a jerk." But Sam couldn't help but pull a small smile, anyway.

Simultaneously, they turned and began to slowly head back over towards the car, where Buffy and Faith were waiting for them.

"There's just one thing you should remember," Dean said quietly to his brother.

"Yeah? What's that?"

"Well, for the first time in our lives, we're not in this by ourselves, Sam."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. We've got Buffy. And I think she plans on sticking around for a while."

Sam nodded thoughtfully. "Don't forget Faith."

"Yeah. Faith too."

Holding his arm out to stop his brother from walking, Sam quickly checked that they were still far away enough from the girls to risk talking without being overheard. "Is something going on between you and Buffy?"

Dean's heart began to thud uncomfortably in his chest. He and Buffy hadn't discussed telling Sam or Faith anything about what was going on between them yet, and he was pretty sure they needed to before he started singing about it. He was also aware that the situation with Faith would need to be addressed at some point, no matter how much he'd rather avoid it. "What? No! Why would you even think that? Me and Buffy hate each other, remember?"

"You and Buffy used to hate each other. Now...man, I don't know. Do you want there to be something?"

"Sam, what the hell are you even talking about?"

"Do you like her? And I don't just mean like as in you'd like to have a quickie one time thing with her. I mean do you, and I can't believe that I'm asking this of you of all people, do you have feelings for her?"

Dean laughed so loudly that even Faith and Buffy looked up at him from the car. He might have overdone it, then. "You're crazy!"

Sam stared at him for a long moment, and then shook his head. "And you're a liar."

"Whatever, man. Think what you want."

"I know you, Dean. I've seen the way you look at her, the way you act around her. I just...think you should be careful. People could end up getting hurt."

"Then it's a good job nothing's going on then."

Faith huffed, her grumpiness apparent as they pulled into yet another run down motel car park later that evening, after they'd put a nice, long distance between themselves and Burkitsvile, Indiana. "Another day, another craphole motel room," she announced. "You know, we really should start staying in classier digs. I bet the council would give us some cash for it."

"It's better if we stay in places like this," Sam explained. "It makes us less noticeable."

"Makes sense I guess."

He squeezed her shoulder and smiled. "Come on. Maybe it's not so bad inside."

"Why don't you two go ahead and check us in," Dean suggested. "Me and Buffy will bring in the bags."

Faith shrugged happily, her bad mood temporarily forgotten, and climbed out of the car. "Sounds like a deal I could live with."

Dean and Buffy watched in silence for a moment and Sam and Faith ambled over towards the motel doors, nudging each other playfully and giggling like school children.

"I think running away together like two angsty teenagers made them closer," Dean observed.

Buffy hummed in agreement, though she wasn't really paying attention. She exited the car and moved over to lean against the hood, staring unseeingly out into the nearby forest.

Dean followed her and, after glancing around to make sure that no one was watching, pressed his body right up against hers, revelling in her warmth. Buffy smiled up at him and lifted herself to sit on the hood of his car, wrapping her legs around him to bring him even closer.

He shook his head, resting one hand lightly on her jeans clad thigh and stroking the side of her neck with the other. "You do realize that if you were anyone else in the whole wide world I'd be giving that cute little ass of yours a righteous kicking right about now for sitting up there?"

She nodded shyly, and with his heart full of something he couldn't quite describe, Dean moved his hand up higher to brush a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

Dropping his hand awkwardly, he cleared his throat and looked away. "So I uh...I might be too cheap to buy you expensive rings and gifts and crap-"

"Dean!" Buffy protested, remembering with shame what she had said to Stacey and Harley. "I was just kidding about that! We were just messing with each other, remember? I don't want any of that stuff! All I need is...you."

His face brightened up so instantaneously that it took Buffy slightly by surprise. He smiled at her words and shrugged in embarrassment. "Yeah, even so...Jesus, I'm bad at this...Look, I want you to have this." He pulled off the plain, silver band he always wore on his right hand finger. "I never gave a girl anything before. It's not much, but I wanted you to have something special. Something that means something to me.

Her mouth dropped open, but it was a long moment before she could get any words to come out. "Dean, I..."

"Take it," he insisted, pressing the ring into her hand. "Please. Before the violins start playing."

Nodding, she held up the band and studied it in awe. "I didn't think...I never expected..." She slid it onto her middle finger, grinning when she saw how much space their was to spare. "I don't think it's gonna fit."

Dean chuckled. "It's 'cause you have the fingers of a midget. We'll just have to put it somewhere else." He reached around the back of her neck and unclasped the necklace he'd bought her for her birthday, sliding the ring on to the chain and doing it back up.

"That's perfect," she approved.

"Have to make sure you keep it tucked into your shirt for now, though. Sam's already suspicious."

"Is that why he keeps looking at me weird?"

"Probably."

"Oh no," Buffy babbled. "I just realized I don't have anything to give you. I mean, I could give you a stake or something but that's not really very special and-"

"Buffy," Dean halted her. He slid his fingers over her soft cheeks and into her hair, looking down at her with hungry, intense eyes. "Listen to me when I say that you've already given me everything I ever wanted." He kissed her softly, but as with all of their kisses, it soon turned much more passionate. Pulling away slightly, he bit her bottom lip and kissed her nose. "How 'bout we take this inside the car?"

Buffy slid off of the hood and reached for the car handle, a wicked smile set firmly on her lips.


	28. Chapter 28

Downtime

"Are you definitely sure you don't wanna come with us?" a worried Sam asked Dean for the millionth time – that morning.

Faith rolled her eyes at his distress as she loaded his bags and hers into the back of the Impala. Had Sam never met his brother or Buffy before?

"Dude," Dean answered, his voice reassuring. "exploring crusty old mansions may be your idea of a kick ass weekend, but it just sounds geektastic to me. Trust me, I'm more than happy to let you two nerds go off and look for imaginary ghosts while me and Buffy hang back here and handle the case."

"Hey, I'm no nerd, Winchester!" Faith protested, circling back around the car to join them. "I just have brain cells, unlike you. And interests other than drinking and shooting."

Dean snorted good naturedly.

"Oh hey, thanks again for letting us take the car," Sam commented.

Dean shrugged. "No problem. Just don't damage her."

"I won't."

"Seriously. She comes back with even a scratch on her hot little body and I will be forced to maim you." Dean was only slightly less bothered about lending his car to Faith and Sam than he was letting on. Truth be told, he would have given them just about anything to score these precious few days alone with Buffy.

"You guys all ready to go?" Buffy queried as she approached the threesome from the motel room.

"Sure are," Faith replied, her eyes shining with what looked suspiciously like excitement. Buffy shook her head. She'd never understand that girl. Never.

"Well, have fun. I'm sure it'll be a blast."

"Could you try sounding just a little more sarcastic?"

"I'm sorry, it's just..."

"Not your thing?" Faith finished for her.

"Exactly."

"Your loss, angel-puss." She leaned forwards and gave Buffy a quick hug. "See you in a few days."

Standing side by side, Buffy and Dean watched with beating hearts as Sam climbed into the driver's seat. Excitement bubbled up inside their chests as the car slowly disappeared down the road. Once it had completely vanished, an excited Dean span around and hoisted Buffy up and over his shoulder, chuckling at her outraged squeak of surprise.

"Dean Winchester, what on earth do you think you're doing?" she demanded kicking out her legs and trying hard not to laugh.

"I-" he began, slapping her ass heartily. "-am taking you back inside that oh so romantic motel room, and once inside, am gonna give you some proper Dean Winchester sexin'." He beat on his chest with his spare fist. "Caveman style!"

Buffy giggled and allowed him to carry her into the motel room and slam the door shut behind him. Once he'd let her down, she backed him up against the door and wrapped her arms around his neck, glancing up at him through seductive, hooded eyes. "I can't believe we have a whole two and half days alone together. It's like heaven."

"It's gonna be like naked heaven," he agreed, pushing her body forwards with his own towards the bed.

The back of her knees hit the bed frame and with an 'oomph', she fell onto her back, a horny Dean landing directly on top of her. "And what exactly do you plan on spending the next two and a half days of naked heaven doing, Mr Caveman?"

"Well, for starters, I plan on putting this..." He smirked and wiggled his eyebrows as he clasped her hand in his and rubbed it over his large, very prominent, jeans clad erection. "...in here..." He thrust hard against her crotch. "And not taking it out for pretty much the entire time."

She gasped in faux surprise. "But what if it drops off?"

"Then it gets to die in its very favourite place."

Her chuckle was cut smartly off by Dean's lips, as he ravaged hers with a ferocious force. He plundered his tongue into her mouth, and she moaned in pleasure, having gone without more than a quick, sneaky peck for the past couple of days. Gripping at the bottom of his t-shirt, she bunched the material in her fists and slid it up over his body. Neither were happy as they were forced to stop kissing for a whole second and a half as she brought it over his head.

"Love this dress," Dean admitted around her lips, once the kissing had gladly been resumed. He smoothed his hands over the flimsy, peach coloured fabric, having no idea that she'd only worn it for him.

"I'll bet you a buck you like what's underneath even more."

He growled at the challenge and sat up on his knees, lifting her to straddle him. Slowly, he pulled the dress up over her thighs, her waist, her arms, her head. He whistled as he threw it to the floor, a lot less interested in the garment now that she wasn't in it. "Have you been naked under there the whole day?" he breathed.

"I didn't want anything slowing us down once we were finally alone."

"So...at any point today, I could have done...this?" He traced the tips of his fingers between her breasts and down her belly, fascinated with the way a crop of goosebumps would appear the moment his fingertips passed by. He continued his self made pathway through her light crop of curls and onto her damp centre.

Buffy bucked, even at such a light touch. The past couple of days being barely able to touch one another without the fear of someone catching them were clearly a couple of days too much.

"And-" Dean continued. "-I could have done this..." He slid one finger inside of her, delighted to find that she was already wet for him.

She threw her head back and moaned deliciously, exposing the soft skin of her neck to Dean's hungry mouth. He placed wet, open mouthed kisses down the column of her throat, smiling when he felt her shiver.

Suddenly, she pushed forwards, pinning Dean onto the bed with the length of her body. "Pants off," she commanded. "Now."

He was only too happy to oblige. "Yes, ma'am!" With one hand he reached down and yanked off his belt, and allowed Buffy to help him pull off his jeans.

Once he was completely nude – she wasn't the only one who liked to go commando – he rolled them over so that she was underneath him once again. As much as he liked her displays of control, he needed to feel her under him this time. Slowly, he began to descend down her body, but was stopped when she gripped her fingers through his hair to pull him back up.

"There'll be plenty of time for foreplay later," she announced. "Right now I just need you in me."

If Dean hadn't already been harder than rock, her words definitely would have done the trick. There was nothing in the world like the girl of your dreams telling you she needed you. Within seconds, he was over her once again, his penis hovering tantalizingly just over her entrance. "Oh God, baby, you have no idea how much I've missed this."

In reply, she wrapped her legs tightly around his butt and took his member into her hand, guiding it into where they were both so desperate to have it. Both sighed with pleasure and that strange 'coming home' kind of feeling that neither had ever really experienced before.

Dean stilled for a moment, giving them both time to adjust to the feel. But Buffy had no interest in taking time to adjust. She wanted it now. Hard, rough, and maybe even just the slightest bit painful, and that was exactly what she whispered in his ear.

His eyes rolled into the back of his head, a combination of the hottest thing anyone had ever said to him and the feel of her breath hitting his ear. More than happy to do as she commanded, he sat back up on his knees and grasped her ankles, bringing them to rest over his shoulders as he pounded madly into her.

"Oh hell, yeah!" Buffy cried, feeling her toes curl at his powerful movements. She reached back her arms to clasp at the headboard. "Faster!"

Dean did as he was told. He moved faster, wilder, out of control. His mind went blank and he was forced to let his body take over. It was a feeling he'd never before experienced, and later – once his brain had started to re-function – he'd wonder to himself why he'd ever wasted his time on other women when he could have been waiting for this, for Buffy. Perfection, right here, all bunched up into one little woman.

Buffy smiled and all but purred blissfully as she lay entangled with Dean some time later, pondering over how things couldn't have turned out more perfectly if she'd tried.

She'd only been joking when she'd pointed out the 'haunted castle' tour she'd come across on the internet to Sam and suggested that it was something right up his alley. She hadn't expected him to actually be interested in the thing, and she'd definitely not expected Faith to be just as curious.

Dean had not been amused, and had adamantly refused to be dragged around some dusty old pile of bricks, but after Buffy had had a secret whisper in his ear, he'd conveniently found a job a half a day's drive away, and had suggested that he and Buffy take it whilst Sam and Faith have a fun weekend off. Buffy had silently thought that offering them the use of his Impala was pushing it just a little too far, and was honestly baffled by how the two hadn't caught on.

But they hadn't. And they'd left, for one whole, entire weekend.

And Buffy and Dean were left behind. Together. There was nothing more perfect in the world.

The job was finished easily and quickly enough. Wanting to spend the next couple of days focusing on just themselves and their relationship, they dedicated their first entire night alone to solving it. It appeared that thick patches of ice were mysteriously appearing on a stretch of road, causing all who drove by to spin and crash fatally.

A slice of research here, and the discovery of a covered up murder there, mixed in with a dash of ghostly badness and a spoonful of bone burning, and the case was solved and all wrapped up. One of the easy ones, they agreed happily.

In true celebratory style, Dean ignored his weariness and took Buffy out to a club that night. Desperate to see her smiling, he even agreed to dance. Of course, being able to put his arms around her and grind up against her in front of actual people may have had something to do with his willingness.

Hell, he'd even fully enjoyed sending the guy at the bar shooting Buffy an admiring look a warning scowl, silently sending him the message in the way men did that she was his girl, his territory.

And then it was back onto the dance floor, where he'd been able to run his hands over her waist and grab her butt and kiss her like a horny teenager.

As they'd left, he'd held her hand as they were walking down the street. He'd held her hand. Her frikkin' hand!And it had been his move.

A little while later, as he'd taken her up against a tree near the back of the motel, it occurred to him that he wasn't quite sure he'd ever be ready for Faith and Sam to return, ever be ready to go back to the secrecy.

"You look real pretty today," Dean told Buffy, as he clasped her hands in his across the diner table. He leaned forwards and placed a light kiss on her lips.

Buffy blushed at the compliment and glanced down at the flowery dress he'd insisted on buying her after he'd caught her checking it out in a shop window as they strolled by that morning. "Thank you," she answered. "You know, you're being very soppy today."

He looked ashamed of himself. "I know. I can't help it."

"I think maybe you like me a little bit," she teased in a sing song voice. "Deany likes Buffy!"

Squeezing her hands tightly, he swallowed hard and looked at her nervously. "I think maybe Deany likes Buffy a lot."

She would have asked him to elaborate, but the waitress chose that exact annoying moment to swoop down upon them with their lunch. "Oh!" she gushed, spotting their joined hands. "Aren't you pair just the cutest thing?! Have you been together long?"

"We were high school sweethearts," Dean lied, before Buffy could reply. "Buffy here was Little Miss Prom Queen and I was no more than a humble trouble maker. But the moment our eyes met across the lunch room...well, that was it for me. I cleaned up my act and haven't let her go since."

The old waitress gasped in pleasure at such a romantic tale and put a hand to her heart. "Oh my, oh my. Just like those movies my granddaughter loves! And you've been together ever since?"

"Now I have her," Dean expressed, entirely sincere. "I don't plan on ever letting her go."

Almost in tears, the waitress finally left them their food and bustled away, nattering about young love and happy endings.

Buffy shook her head and smiled. "You are so bad."

He shrugged in reply, only allowing her to take back one of her hands to pick up her fork to eat. "I guess I'm just enjoying not having to hide us from everyone for once." He picked up his own fork. "Besides, it was that or the real story. And I don't think she'd have been so impressed with 'I helped her burn up a demon'.

Throughout the rest of the day, Dean continued to spin more and more stories about how he and Buffy had met when they talked to random, curious people. Buffy could only laugh and shake her head when the stories got more and more outrageous each time he'd tell them.

It was nice to see him have so much fun, and it was even nicer to see him smile. And it gave her just the warmest feeling to know that she was the cause of his smiles.

Much later that night, after he'd shown her once again just what Dean Winchester style lovin' was all about, Dean lay on his side, his head resting on his fist as he watched a very content looking Buffy sleep. He knew exactly how she was feeling. It had been a very long time since he'd felt this relaxed, this peaceful.

He smiled as she shifted. She lay on her stomach, her head on her outstretched arms and her hair wildly tousled from their earlier activities. The thin bed sheet fell across her back, and he tugged on it a little so that one of her perfectly rounded butt cheeks became exposed.

With a happy little sigh, he traced one, inquisitive finger up the smooth skin of her spine, watching closely as it bobbled over the little ridges.

God, he was so damned happy! But there was also the slightest tinge of guilt gnawing away at his insides, casting a dark shine over everything they did together. Because he knew. He knew that he could never give Buffy any of the things that she truly needed, that she deserved. He'd never be good enough for her. He knew that, and yet he was just too selfish to let her go.

So what kind of a man did that make him?

Though they tried their hardest to hide it, both Buffy and Dean were close to devastated when Sam and Faith finally returned 'home' from their haunted castle tour, armed with excited stories about an actual ghost and a near death experience.

In fact, only an hour had passed in their company and Dean was so desperate to be able to touch Buffy once more that he offered his and her services in dinner collection duty, as Sam and Faith had had a 'long drive home' and 'must just be real tired'.

"I just don't get why!" he grunted to Buffy as they carried the take-out back towards the motel. "Why can't we tell them we're together now? Then we won't have to hide all the time and sneak about and I could actually get to touch you every once in a while without having to make up some stupid excuse to be alone with you."

Buffy sighed, tired of having the same argument over and over. "You know why we can't tell them."

"Let me guess, you're gonna use the Faith card on me again?"

"Yes! God, Dean! We've been over this like a million times already!"

"I know, and I'm getting tired of hearing the same old excuses. Because what we've been over is the fact that there hasn't been squat going on with me and Faith for freakin' ever! I want to tell people about us, Buffy, I want to tell everyone." He rubbed a frustrated hand through his hair. "And yes, I am fully aware of what a complete woman I sound like right now, okay? Man, see what you do to me?"

"You don't know Faith like I do. Just because you guys aren't together any more doesn't mean she doesn't still see you as hers."

"Well that's just about the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. I'm not her possession."

"I know it's dumb, but it's just the way her mind works. And...Faith and I have this bond."

"The slayer thing, right?"

"Yeah. We're the only two left who were chosen. It means something. We know more about what it's like to be each other than anyone."

Dean sighed heavily and stopped walking, touching her elbow to halt her too. He took the bags of food from her hands and placed them on a nearby wall, before turning back to face her and grasping her cheeks between his two rough hands. "You," he mumbled. "are too much of a good person. Better than me, better than Faith. And I'm sorry, okay. I really am. I just get...impatient, sometimes. Especially after the amazing weekend we just had. I just want you to know...I'm in this, yeah? Whatever it is me and you have, I'm in it. And I guess that for the first time in my dumb-ass life, I'm actually excited about something. About you, us. And I wanna tell people. I wanna shout it from the freakin' rooftops. But I'll wait. I'll wait until you're ready, okay?"

She reached up on her tiptoes and placed a gentle kiss on his jaw in gratitude. "Thank you. That means a lot to me."

He smiled ruefully and pressed his nose against hers, squashing them both. "But just so you know, one day, Ido want to tell people. Everyone. One day that's not too far away."

Buffy nodded her agreement. "Me too. I just...need to talk to Faith. And I will. Soon. I promise."

"Okay then." He picked the bags of food back up off the wall and put his arm around her shoulders – revelling in the last few moment they'd have together for who knew how long – and continued walking back towards the motel, deep in thought.

He'd meant what he said – every word of it. He wanted people to know about them. The people who mattered, at least, like Sam and Faith. Because although he'd never say it out loud for fear of sounding like a complete mush, he was beginning to imagine. For the first time ever, he was really allowing himself to imagine. Imagine what life would be like once they'd found their dad and killed the demon.

He was imagining his future. Their future. A future belonging to him and Buffy. Together. And man did that feel good.


	29. Chapter 29

Brilliant image created by sarbear

AN – So I finally gave birth! I had a gawjus little girl on Friday 13th (eek!) May called Eliza – which is why it took me so flippin' long to get this chapter out!...This chapter is based on the Supernatural episode 'Faith'.

Faith – Part One

A cloud of dust flew up behind the Impala as Dean drove, faster than he should have been due to frustration and irritation.

"I'm hungry," Faith announced from the passenger seat. "I've been hungry for freakin' ages. No wait, I'mstarved."

"Yeah," he huffed in reply. "You mentioned that already. Like, five hundred times."

"So maybe you should take that as your cue to stop off somewhere and get me some grub, man."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize I had 'Faith's Bitch' tattooed across my forehead."

In the back seat, Sam and Buffy shared equally bemused looks. Dean and Faith had been bickering like children all day, and there seemed like there was nothing they could do to drown it out. After eight and a half hours of almost solid driving, it was wearing very thin.

"Hey, look!" Sam butted in eventually, pointing towards an approaching sign on the side of the road. "There's a town just a couple of miles away. Why don't we stop off there and grab a bite to eat, maybe stretch our legs a little. I don't know about you guys, but Buffy and I could sure do with a breather."

Dean and Faith begrudgingly agreed, and Sam sat back in his seat, looking very pleased with himself.

"Dean, look at this," Sam commanded, as the two sat across from each other in a diner.

Dean glanced up from his mammoth sized burger to find Sam ignoring his own grilled cheese sandwich and pursuing a local newspaper. "Look at what?"

Sam held the newspaper up for him to see. "Two local kids have gone missing from the area. A brother and sister. They just disappeared from their beds a couple of days ago. Maybe we should hang around here and take a look, see if we can find anything out."

Dean frowned and shook his head, returning his attention to his burger. "Nah. It's not our area of expertise. Leave it to the cops, man. They know what they're doing."

"But what if this is our are of expertise?"

"How?"

"Hello? It's not like we've never dealt with missing kids before."

"Aw, come on, Sammy. You're just looking for things where they don't exist."

"How do you know? What if we just drove right on out of town and this really was a case and we could have saved these two little children?"

"Don't try guilt tripping me into this. You should know by now that not everything is supernatural."

Before Sam could protest his case any further, Buffy and Faith arrived back from the bathroom and squeezed into the booth next to the brothers.

"So," Buffy started, pinching one of Dean's fries and repressing a smile when he didn't complain. "we were just in the toilets and we overheard these two waitresses talking. Apparently two poor little kids went missing around here the other day. I was thinking that we should rent out a room in town and check it out."

Dean nodded immediately in agreement. "Good idea."

Sam's mouth dropped open in shock and indignation. "Are you seriously kidding me right now? You just said-"

"Hey Sam, why don't you shut your cakehole," Dean suggested menacingly. "Jeez. This could be a real case here. What if we just left town when we could have done something to save these kids? Have a heart, dude."

Sam slammed his newspaper down and folded his arms over his chest, clamping his mouth shut as he tried to figure out exactly what had just happened.

As Buffy had suggested, they booked into a rather nice looking motel – for once – and stacked up on junk food and books, ready to hit the research after chatting to the locals about what had happened.

Unsurprisingly, it took Dean less than an hour of reading things he didn't really understand to get bored. By the time darkness had rolled around and covered the sky, he was just about ready to pull his hair out. "Hey, here's an idea," he exclaimed to the silent room. "Me and Buffy should hit the streets, see if we can hunt anything down."

Sam nodded wearily. "Yeah, that's probably a good idea. Maybe we should get out there. I mean, it's not like we're coming up with much in the books here."

"No!" Dean protested, and then he grimaced when all three turned around to stare at him for his outburst. "Uh...what I mean is, you and Faith should carry on...with the looking stuff up. We all know it's not mine or Buffy's strong point. And we'll be fine on our own. It seems like a quiet town, so I doubt we'll even find much of anything.

"I guess you're right. It'd be better working both angles."

Dean grinned, glad that Sam had so easily agreed. He turned to Buffy, who had given up on the reading half an hour before and was busy filing her nails. "You coming or what?"

"God, yes." She jumped up off the bed and scooped up her jacket. "I swear if I have to spend one more minute in this room with these dusty old books, I might have to kill one of you."

Sam chuckled. "We'll see you guys later then."

"Bring me back some food," Faith demanded. "We're all out of food."

So, where do you wanna head first?" Buffy asked Dean, once the motel room door had shut behind them. "I think I saw a cemetery right nearby town."

He grabbed her by the waist and swung her around until she was pressed up against the wall. He cut off her grunt with a hard kiss. "Screw that. Let's just...take a walk. Or something."

She smirked up at him. "I thought you wanted to patrol?"

"No...I wanted to spend some time with you. Alone."

"Well then, I'm not gonna argue with logic like that."

Dean smiled and released her from his hold, taking her hand in his. They slowly strolled away from the motel, passing by the Impala.

"You don't wanna drive it?" Buffy questioned.

Dean pointedly ignored the 'it' part of her question, and simply took her hand. "Nah, I'd rather walk. It's more...romantic or whatever."

She glanced down at their entwined hands, her cheeks taking on a rosy tint as her heart skipped a beat.

"You do know that we are totally not having sex in here," Buffy informed Dean breathlessly as he pushed her up against a tree in a nearby patch of woodland they had happened to stumble across.

"Why not?" he murmured back, kissing her soundly and sliding a cheeky hand inside her shirt.

"Because," she replied in between kisses. "it's dark in here." Kiss. "And very creepy." Kiss. "And there could be all kinds of beasties watching us just waiting to get their rocks off to some real live porno action."

Dean pulled back and grinned down at her rakishly. "Then I guess I'll just have to get you out of here and in some place nice and open."

"Guess you will, big boy."

Less than a minute later they stumbled across thee edge of the woodland and into a field, where Dean wasted no time at all in pulling Buffy to the ground and unzipping her pants.

"Wait," Buffy stopped him, sitting up over him. "Do you have any condoms?"

He paused and looked up at her for a moment, before banging his head on the ground and groaning loudly. He was the biggest dumb-ass idiot on the face of the entire planet! How could he have left them behind? Seriously? "No," he answered with a sigh. "Let's just do it anyway. I'll pull out. It'll be fine."

She snorted and replied dryly, "Yeah, sure, let's have unprotected sex and fill me up with a bunch of little Buffy and Deans'. Won't that be just swell."

Dean cocked his head and studied her, imagining just what their kids would look like. Blonde, no doubt. And damned cute, too.

Nah, he thought, shaking his head. What was he thinking? They couldn't do this. He'd want to get Buffy good and married first before they even considered having kids. That way they would get to do all that newly wed stuff. Like lots of hardcore honeymoon sex. And new home sex. And lazy Sunday morning sex. And just lots and lots of sex.

And holy whoa!

What the hell was this? Where had all this come from? It was like he'd suddenly grown the brain and thoughts of a completely different man. Marriage? Honeymoons? Kids? That wasn't him!

Oh God, what was she doing to him? He was Dean freakin' Winchester, for crying out loud! He didn't want any of that crap! He sure didn't need it! He didn't want to be tied down!

Except...maybe he did kind of want all that. With her. Only with her.

Holy shit, I'm in love with her. So in love with her.

The thought struck him through the heart with all the shock and electricity of a lightening bolt, damn near full on stopping the thing.

He'd kind of suspected it already, but now he really knew for sure.

And hell, he really liked the way it felt.

He wondered whether or not he should tell her. Probably. If only to find out whether or not she felt the same way – he'd only wind up driving him self crazy pondering it otherwise. So when? Now?

Maybe telling her whilst they were lying in a field discussing birth control wasn't the best idea.

But then again, he'd never really been the romantic type anyway.

Okay, he was going to tell her. Right here and now.

"Hey, do you see that?" she asked, before he could even open his mouth.

"Do I see what?" He craned his neck around to see what she was staring at.

An old, run down looking shack sat at the other edge of the field, just visible in the darkness.

Buffy frowned and shivered. "It's giving me the tinglies. And not those nice ones you were giving me a minute ago. We should go check it out."

Dean sighed, filled with regret – and also a little relief for his more cowardly part – that he had lost his moment. He nodded. "Yeah, okay. Just...give me a minute."

"Why? What's up?"

He wiggled underneath her, allowing her to feel the hardness of his erection. "That's up."

"Oh."

He closed his eyes tightly. "Think unsexy thoughts," he murmured to himself under his breath. "Think unsexy thoughts."

"Just imagine Sam with breasts," Buffy offered helpfully.

He burst out into amused peals of laughter, and swiftly rolled them over so that he was on his hands and knees above her. Leaning down, he kissed her sweetly. He pulled away and brushed a stray strand of hair away from her eyes.

She blushed as he just...looked at her for a long moment, something secret and hot and intense hidden in his eyes.

And then he blinked and it was gone, and he was on his feet and pulling her to hers. "You know," he began, taking her hand as they walked towards the shack. "you've ruined boobs for me for me now for like, ever."

"Oh my God," Buffy whispered, as they peered through the shack's one and only grubby window. "What isthat?"

Dean clenched his jaw. "That is our kidnapper. He's a Rawhead – sick little bastards. I'll bet you a million bucks he's got those two missing kids in there."

"What does he want them for?"

"Food," he replied grimly.

"Oh God. We need to get them out of there fast. How do we kill it?"

"Electrocution." He pulled her away from the window. "Come on, we're gonna need more fire power."

"And you're sure electricity is the only way to kill this thing?" Faith questioned, as the four drove back to the shack less than an hour later. "We can't just stab it through the heart? Because that's my favourite method."

"Yeah. Our dad killed one when we were kids," Sam explained. "He wrote all about it in his journal."

"Right then. So what's the plan?"

"You and Buffy go around and wait out back," Dean instructed. "Me and Sam will go in the front and fry him. If it gets past us then you need to make sure the bastard can't escape. We got one chance at this and one chance only. We let him get away, he's gone for good."

Buffy kept her face buried in her shaking hands as she and Faith sat, waiting, in the hospital. Time seemed endless, and she felt like she'd been there forever.

Sam was over by the desk, talking to the police.

"Buff," Faith hissed. "Doc's back."

Buffy dropped her hands and jumped up to follow Faith over towards where he was now talking to Sam.

"How's my brother?" Sam demanded.

The doctor lowered his eyes and shook his head, solemnly. "I'm afraid the electrocution caused your brother to have a heart attack. His heart is damaged severely."

Faith cursed loudly and turned away, but Buffy kept silent. The only sign that she had even heard what the doctor had said was the colour visibly draining away from her face.

Sam rubbed a hand over his face. "What do you mean 'severely'? How damaged are we talking?"

"We've done everything that we possibly can, Sir. The best and only thing we can do now is make him comfortable."

"Make him comfortable? You mean..."

"I mean that I'd give him a couple of weeks. Maybe a month at the most. I'm so sorry."

Once the doctor had left, Faith let out another string of curses as she swung back around, her fists clenched tightly. She dropped them, however, when she realized that violence wasn't a viable option here. "If that damned Rawhead wasn't already dead I'd kill him so unbelievably hard!"

"This is all my fault," Sam exclaimed. "I should have been the one with the taser, not Dean. He's never been comfortable with those things."

"Don't be dumb, Sammy. If you'd been the one with the taser then you'd just be the one in hospital. How is that any better?"

"Better me than Dean."

"For Christ's sake, you're being stupid, and you know it. Look, we're gonna fix this, okay? Dean isn't going to die, not on my watch. You hear me?"

Sam nodded gratefully and squeezed Faith's arm. "You're right. I'm sorry, I know I'm not helping. We'll find a way to save him, we will."

"Right. Good then. Much better." She scooped down and picked up her jacket from where she had left it on one of the uncomfortable hospital seats. "I'm gonna go start researching right now."

"Wait a second, don't you want to go in and see Dean first?"

"I'll wait until later. Let you and Buffy do all the mushy crap with him first. I'll see you back at motel." And with a stamping of boot clad feet, she was gone.

Sam turned to Buffy, who still hadn't spoken, or even moved. "Are you coming in?"

She jumped, and he realized that her mind hadn't even been there for a moment. When she looked up at him, her eyes were pink rimmed with barely suppressed tears. "Huh?"

"Are you coming in with me? To see Dean?"

"Uh, yeah...I'll be there in a minute. You go ahead."

He took her shoulders in his hands and looked down into her eyes, knowingly. "He'll want to see you."

"I'll be there in a minute," she repeated. "I promise."

He nodded and let go of her. "Okay then."

"You ever tried watching this daytime TV junk?" Dean asked casually as Sam entered the room. "It's full of crap. Makes me almost glad we didn't grow up in a home with a TV." He looked up and frowned. "Where's Buffy?"

"She said she'll be by in a minute." Sam sighed. "Dean, I just talked to you doctor."

"You did? So you heard, then. Guess you guys will be leaving town a threesome instead of a foursome, huh? And what do you mean she'll be by in a minute? Where is she?"

Sam blanched at his brothers words. "Jesus, Dean! We're not going to leave without you! How could you even think that?"

"You better take damned good care of her when I'm gone."

"What? Who? What her?"

"All of them – my car, Faith...Buffy. Especially Buffy. You need to look out for her."

Sam smiled. "I don't think Buffy needs much taking care of. She's pretty tough."

"Yeah, I know that, but just...do it anyway. Just...don't go falling in love with her. I know it's too easy to do and all, but don't. Otherwise I'll have to haunt your skinny ass, and neither of us wants that."

Sam blinked, opening and closing his mouth in shock. "What are you trying to say here? Are you in love with Buffy?" Dean looked pointedly away, and Sam knew without a doubt that it was the end of the conversation, and that no amount of cajoling would get him to answer. And considering the his brother's condition, he decided that this was one time he could let it slide. "Okay, it's time we talked about our options."

Dean frowned. "What options? I'm dying, man. I'm going to die. It sucks, but this is a dangerous gig, and we all know the score. We all know what we're letting ourselves in for when we chose this life. No one can live forever."

"Don't talk like that!"

"Listen to me, Sammy. I am going to die. I am. And you can't stop it."

"Yeah, watch me."

Dean opened his mouth to protest, but was interrupted by a quiet, "Hey."

Both men glanced up at the small voice.

"Buffy," Dean whispered, his face smoothing of all worry lines and settling into relief.

Sam looked from one to the other, noting that they couldn't keep their eyes off of one another, that they were staring at each other like there was nobody else in the world. "So I'm gonna head back to the motel and help Faith research." He looked at Dean intently. "Get some rest. We're gonna fix this."

Dean waved a hand, but didn't even really notice Sam leave the room.

Once they were alone, Dean held out his arms for Buffy, and she wasted no time at all in going to him. Carefully, she curled up on the bed next to him, failing to stop the tears from falling as the traced the dark circles around his eyes with a gentle finger.

He took her hand and stared down at her bloody knuckles in confusion. "What happened?"

"I punched a wall." She avoided eye contact, feeling a little shamefaced.

He shook his head and rolled his eyes. "You should stop punching solid objects. It ruins your hands, and I like your hands." He held it up against his own. "They're so cute and little compared to mine."

She linked their fingers together and brought them up to her lips. "Dean, I heard what you said to Sam...about dying. You know that I'm not gonna let that happen, don't you?"

"God, sweetheart, you have no idea how much I want to live. How much you make me want to live. There isn't anything I wouldn't do right now just to be able to stay alive...with you. To have a life with you. But you heard the doc, angel-face. There's nothing they can do. No pills they can give me, no miracle cure. I'm going, that's it."

Buffy shook her head vehemently. "No." Her voice was firm and full of determination. "You're not going anywhere, and that sure as hell isn't it. You can't leave me now. I'm your cookie."

"You're my what now?"

"Um, nothing. Just...Sam was right. We will fix this.

As much as he didn't believe her, Dean appreciated her words all the same. Yet he had no idea how to reply, so instead her kissed her – a tactic that he had often found worked quite well when he wanted to distract her.

Neither seemed to hear or notice when his heart rate monitor began to bleep faster.

Sam slammed shut another useless book and threw it onto the motel bed, cursing.

Surprised at his foul language, Faith glanced up at him. "Don't give up on me now, Sammy boy," she began. "I know this is tough, but we're gonna figure it out. We always do, right?"

"Right." His face brightened and he sat up straight. "What about Willow?"

"What about her?"

"She's a witch, right? A powerful one? Maybe she could help. Do some kind of spell or something."

Faith scratched her head uncomfortably, not at all looking forward to wiping away the first smile he'd had in days. "Uh, see...there's kind of this thing with Willow. If she gets too powered up she has this little tendency to go all...world endy."

"'World endy'?

"Evil. Black eyed, black haired, rip your skin off evil. At least, that's how the stories go."

"What? Are you serious? But she seemed so..."

"Nice? Yeah." She shook her head sadly. "And the kind of mojo needed for something like this – if it's even possible that there is a spell, which I highly doubt – would turn her bad for sure. The council would put a stop to it before it even began. And rightly so."

"I guess we keep on looking then."

"I guess we do."

Much later, Sam and Faith were startled out of their planning when a knock sounded on the motel room door.

"Did you order more food?" Faith questioned, wondering why he would when they'd only just eaten.

"No."

"Then who the hell is that? Buffy is still at the hospital with Dean."

Picking up his gun and holding it out of sight behind his back, Sam cautiously made his way towards the door. The surprise registered on his face when he opened it up to find his brother standing on the other side, being supported heavily by Buffy.

"Sorry," Buffy exclaimed, shaking her head. "I tried to get him to stay in the hospital but he's to frikkin' stubborn for his own good."

Dean shrugged as if he didn't see what the problem was. "The food in there was even crappier than the junk we usually eat. What did you expect me to do? Besides, I know Buffy doesn't like hospitals, so..."

She rolled her eyes at his selflessness. "Idiot."

Huffing and mumbling under his breath about what a reckless jerk his brother was, Sam moved to Dean's other side and helped Buffy get him inside and settled onto a chair.

Looking between Sam and Faith, Dean chuckled. "Man, you guys look even crappier than I do. What the hell have you been doing since I've been gone?"

"Finding ways to save your ungrateful hide," Faith replied, but it was obvious in tilted up corners of her lips that she was happy to see him.

Sam sat down across from him, excitement shining in his tired eyes. "And we think we've found something."

Dean looked highly unconvinced. "Oh yeah?" he acknowledged. "Let me guess? Some voodoo clown, right?"

"Nope. I got a hold of one of Dad's contacts who told me all about this guy from Nebraska. He's a specialist..."

"So, apricot, how long exactly do you think it'll take Sam and Faith to pick up dinner?" Dean asked Buffy half an hour later, after Sam had finally convinced Dean that they should head out to Nebraska the following morning.

"Not sure," she replied. "Why?"

He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Why do you think?"

Buffy could only scoff. "You're kidding me, right? You can't seriously be suggesting we have sex right now? You'd die for sure."

Dean sighed in defeat and leaned back on the bed. "Yeah, I know. I don't even think I've got the energy to get Deany Junior up and running anyway. I just want to...hold you. Can I do that?"

She smiled sadly and joined him on the bed, allowing him to wrap his weak arms around her small frame. "Always."

NEBRASKA

"You are unbelievable!" Dean scolded Sam, snarling in disgust as they trundled through field thick with mud. "I can't believe you! You brought me to a freakin' faith healer? Damn you, Sam! You know this stuff is just a bunch of made up crap, right?"

"Will you just at least try it? According to that friend of Dad's, people all over are raving about this guy."

"Yeah well, people all over rave about cheeseburgers too, but I'm not about to sit in a room and be preached at by one of them."

"Come on, Dean, just give this guy a chance. Please. Have a little faith here."

Sighing a turning away from Sam's timeless 'puppy dog' gaze, Dean asked Buffy, "What do you think?"

She bit her lip and shrugged. "Right now I'm open to just about everything and anything to save you, so..."

"You think I should give it a go?"

"Yeah, I do."

"You know what guys," Faith spoke up. "I'm actually with Dean on this one. As much as I want to get Dean better, this sounds like a money making scheme to me. Bunch of crap, I say."

"You'd be surprised," came an easy sounding male voice from behind her. "I wouldn't cast stones on Roy 'till you see him do his thing."

Faith stopped walking and spun around, frowning in annoyance at the tall, moderately handsome looking guy behind her. "Do you make a habit of listening to other people's conversations, surfer boy?" she demanded, snorting when he flicked away a wavy, sun-bleached lock of hair away from his eyes.

"Only when the person talking is as beautiful as you are."

Faith blinked. She'd been complimented before – hell, she'd been read the whole book of lines from scummy guys intent on getting into her pants. So why was it that one simple compliment off of this guy made heat rise in her cheeks and butterflies go wild in her stomach? "Whatever, dude," she replied, wincing when her voice came out noticeably shaken.

With a wide, toothy grin, he held out his hand for her to shake. "Sorry, I'm being rude. I'm Noah."

"Faith." She took his hand, heat building up in her stomach when he held on slightly longer than necessary.

"Well then, Faith," he murmured, finally letting go of her hand. "I think you should have a little faith."

"Cute."

"I know, right? And you should see me when I comb my hair."

"Funny, too," she added dryly.

A woman and a young girl approached the group. "Come on, Noah, he's about to start," the woman said, shooting Faith and the others a curious glance.

"Coming, Mom." He turned back to Faith. "It was nice to meet you, blossom."

"Yeah." Her hand tingled where he had touched it as she walked away. "Sure."

When she turned back around – finally remembering that she was not alone – it was to find her companions watching her with obvious amusement.

"Oh wow, are you blushing?" Buffy asked.

"Go to hell, blondie."

Once the group had entered the tent, Dean tried to park himself on one of the seats closest to the exit. Buffy, however, was having none of it.

"Look," she said, grasping his elbow and pulling him along. "There's some free spaces behind Faith's new boyfriend."

"You're an idiot," Faith replied, punching her friend in the arm. Hard. "Dean's got the right idea. Let's just sit here at the back."

Buffy winced and rubbed at her arm. "Don't be such a chicken."

"Buff, these seats are too near the front," Dean protested weakly, even as they sat in them.

"My point exactly."

To Buffy's great amusement, once they were settled, Noah turned around in is seat and blew Faith a flirty kiss. She scowled at him and looked pointedly away, but Buffy could have sworn that she caught a pleased smile out of the corner of her eye once Noah had turned back to face the front.


	30. Chapter 30

Faith – Part Two

"So?" Sam said to Buffy the next day.

"So what?" Had she missed the rest of his sentence? It had been a long twenty four hours, what with Dean being healed by Roy the preacher, the hospital visit, Dean's suspicions.

"So what do you think? About this whole thing, I mean? About what Dean said?"

She looked troubled. "I guess...I guess I think he's right. This whole situation is dodgier than a demon in a sun dress."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I mean, that faith healer guy heals Dean, and some place else another guy dies of a heart attack – his exact same illness. That's way too much of a coincidence, right?"

Sam chewed on his lip uneasily. "Let's just see what they have to say at his place of death."

"But that's another thing," she commented. "This heart attack dies victim dies at his local pool, which according to his family, he visits all the time. That would indicate that he's relatively healthy."

He didn't want to admit it, but Sam knew that Buffy had a point. "I guess. Maybe. Did you speak to Dean or Faith about any of this?"

"God, no. Dean's feeling way too bad about this as it is. And Faith seemed so happy when she bumped into Noah at the hospital and he asked her out for coffee that I didn't want to put a downer on her."

"Yeah, you're right. Come on, we'd better hurry before the pool closes."

Dean left Roy the reverend's house after their meeting, his head swimming with a boatload of new information. Roy had had cancer, and yet had somehow miraculously been brought back from the brink of death. And now Roy was performing all these other 'miracles' himself. Dean would bet his Impala that there was really something darker going on here.

He was surprised out of his thoughts when he almost bumped into Faith on the steps outside of Roy's home. She stood with Noah, a little smile on her face as he chatted animatedly to her.

"Hey there," he greeted when they spotted him. "What are you guys doing here?"

"My mom's meeting me here any minute so Faith said she'd walk me over," Noah explained.

Dean nodded distractedly, his thoughts already heading back towards Roy.

Seconds later, Noah's mother arrived with the young girl she had been with yesterday. She greeted Dean and Faith politely and introduced the girl as Noah's little sister. "Come on, bumpkin," she said to Noah, causing him to blush in embarrassment. "Let's go and talk to Roy."

Noah nodded and touched Faith's hand – an intimate gesture that made Dean smile because of how obviously happy it made Faith. "I'll see you later?

"Maybe you will," she replied mysteriously. "Maybe you won't."

"I totally will." His gin was cheeky as he turned to follow his mother up the porch steps.

Before Faith had a chance to leave, Roy's wife was out of the house and denying Noah and his mother entry.

"But he was allowed in to see Roy," Noah's mother said accusingly, pointing down towards Dean. "What makeshim so special? Why is it that he gets preferential treatment over Noah?"

"Mom, please..."

"Now now, Mrs Pritchard," Roy's wife interrupted calmly. "You know as well as I that Roy favours nobody. He simply does as God desires-"

"Well, why doesn't God desire to spare my son? Why does he pass over someone so good and kind, time and time again?"

Rooted to the spot, Faith furrowed her brow as she tried to make sense of Noah's mother's words, her heart beginning to beat uncomfortably as they sunk in. Why had it never occurred to her before to ask what exactly it was Noah was doing here?

"I'm sorry," the reverend's wife announced in a very final way. "All I can advise is that you keep on coming along to Roy's services, and to pray." And then she left them standing there to walk back up and in to her house.

After almost a minute of silence, Faith moved over to Noah, who was looking sad and let down, and touched his elbow lightly. "Noah, I don't understand. What's going on?"

He shrugged, looking at her shoulder instead of into her eyes. "It's nothing, really..."

"His heart is weak," his mother put in. "It's failing. The doctor says that in less than a year he'll be...he'll be-"

"Mom, please. It's okay. You don't have to-"

"How/, Noah? How is this okay? How is this fair? That my little boy gets passed right on by while strangers like this man here are healed." She looked Dean up and down in disgust. "What makes your heart any more deserving than his."

Dean opened and closed his mouth, at a loss for words. "I'm so sorry."

Noah shook his head and clapped him on his shoulder. "Don't be, man." He turned to a pale faced Faith, who was watching him with a horrified expression. "See you around."

He never asked her for her number.

As he watched them walk away, Dean ran a frustrated hand through is hair, leaving it sticking up in spikes. "This freakin' blows, man. It should have been him up on that stage with Roy last night, not me. His mom's right. He deserves it more than me."

Faith didn't even hear him speak, not over the sound of her heart breaking a little bit at a time with every step Noah took away from her.

Even once his figure had disappeared and she could no longer see him, she still didn't look away.

It was stupid. Stupider than stupid! It was...dumb! Just plain dumb. But even though she'd only known Noah a day she'd been all about ready to admit to herself that he'd been making her feel all...different. Within a minute of meeting him he'd made her feel pretty. Hell, she'd felt girly for the very first time since she'd worn that stupid dress for the mayor back in Sunnydale, instead of simply hot and slutty like every other guy she'd ever met had made her feel.

And then when she'd spent some more time with him today she'd thought that maybe – and God this was not her style – just maybe, given enough time, she could even fall for him. She'd gone and met the one guy that was the furthest possible from her usual type, and she really and truly believed that she could fall for him.

But the only thing Noah didn't have was time.

As if he could read her thoughts, she felt Dean place a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Sam and Buffy had already returned to the motel by the time Dean had managed to bundle Faith in the car and bring her back. Once inside, she went straight into the bathroom and didn't return, and so Dean took the opportunity to fill Sam and Buffy in.

"What about you guys? Did you find anything out?" His heart sunk when neither of them could quite look him in the eye.

"Dean, I'm sorry," Sam answered.

"Why? What did you learn?"

His brother sighed. "Marshall Hall – the man who died of the heart attack – died at precisely four seventeen pm."

Dean blinked. "That's the exact time I was healed.

"Yeah." Sam nodded. "So uh...Buffy and I did a bit of research and we managed to put together a list of all the people Roy healed this past year. We cross checked them with the local obits and" Sam was looking slightly horrified at this point. "every time he's healed someone, another person has died of the exact same thing that the person he healed was suffering from."

"So...he heals someone dying of a brain tumour, and at that exact same moment someone else dies of a brain tumour?"

"Exactly."

Dean nodded slowly, comprehension dawning on his face. "It's the reaper."

"What?"

"The reaper. Man, it all makes sense now! Roy is using the reaper to heal these people. Trading a life for a life. I should have guessed it when I saw the old man on stage."

Sam stood up and began to pace. "Yeah, you're right. That does make sense. Reaper's are the only things I know that can give and take life like that."

Dean's face dropped, and he turned to face his brother. "So Marshall Hall died just so I could live?"

"Don't do this to yourself, Dean," Sam argued, recognizing the haunted look in Dean's eyes. "It's more than likely that he would have died anyway. If Roy hadn't of picked you, he would have just picked someone else."

"We never should have come here. I knew this was bogus the moment I stepped foot in that damned field. We should have just left when I said."

"Dean, I really am sorry."

"Someone is dead because of me, Sam. Dead! Jesus, I...I have to get out of here." He yanked up the jacket he'd only just dropped minutes before and slammed out of the room.

Sam dropped his head into his hands and groaned. "Maybe I should go after him."

"It's okay, I'll go," Buffy said, rubbing his back comfortingly as she passed him on her way out of the room.

To Buffy's relief, Dean hadn't taken the Impala, and she could still see him as he stalked down the street. "Dean!"

Hearing her call, he slowed down so that she could catch up to him. "What?"

"I just wanted to see if you're okay." She rolled her eyes at her own stupidity. "Which is totally stupid of me because I can see you're obviously not okay. But I just...wanted to be here for you."

"Well...thanks. But I'm fine. I just needed some space."

Her face dropped. "Oh. Right, sure. Sorry. I'll just head on back to the motel."

He quickly grasped her elbow to stop her as she turned to leave. "I didn't mean from you. I never need space from you. I always want you in my...space."

"Oh, good." Her face broke out into a luminous smile of relief.

Dean slid an arm around her waist to pull her firmly to him and they continued to walk.

"You know," Buffy began. "I think I get it now."

"Get what?"

"Well, I don't know if you know, but...I kinda died-"

"I know," Dean interrupted. He really didn't need the agony of hearing that story again.

"Yeah, I thought you might have. Anyway, when I died, I went to heaven. My friends thought I was in hell so they brought me back to life, and when they eventually found out the truth, they were sorry, but they weren't sorry I was alive, if that makes any sense at all. And I could never understand how they could be happy that I had to come back and live in a world full of suffering and demons instead of in heaven."

"And now you think differently?"

"And now I'm so sorry that that man is dead, but I'm so happy that you're alive. It's just such a grey area."

He nodded in understanding.

Buffy paused, halting them both from walking and turned to face him, reaching up to cradle his face in her hands. "But his death is not your fault, you have to see that. I hate to see you blaming yourself like this."

Not having any kind of answer that he knew would satisfy her, Dean instead leaned down and kissed her. He pulled away when a passing motorist whooped at them out of is window. "Come on," he commanded. "Let's get back and get this show on the road."

Faith exited the motel room and took a large gulp of air, relieved to finally be out of there.

She felt so conflicted – on one hand she was glad they had discovered the source of the deaths in the reaper so that they could stop Roy and finish up the case, and on the other she was kind of devastated because that meant that Noah would never get the chance to be healed.

He would die.

She looked down at the address written on the palm of her hand and began to walk, ending up standing in front of one of the nicer hotels in town. Before she could talk herself out of it, she entered and took the lift up to the third floor. Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the first door on the left.

"Faith!" Noah seemed surprised to see her there when he answered. "Hi. Um...how did you know where I was staying? And in what room?"

She shrugged and kicked her boot against the carpeted floor. "I know a thing or two about hacking."

He smirked and held the door open wide for her to come in. "That's hot."

She stepped inside the room and stood in the centre, rubbing her hands against her leather pants awkwardly. "I don't know why I'm here. I guess I just-"

"Look, if you're here about the heart thing, there's really no-"

"-wanted to see you."

"Oh." He paused, watching her for a moment with shining eyes. And then he stepped forwards and kissed her.

Making love to Noah had been a completely new and amazing experience for Faith. For starters, it had been making love, instead of just pure hot sex. And it had been slow and soft and tender and passionate and afterwards, while he held her in his arms, she felt the embarrassing sting of tears in her eyes.

"What are you thinking?" he asked her, stroking her hair as she laid her head upon his bare chest.

She smiled sadly and placed a kiss on his belly button. "I'm thinking that I could really fall in love with you."

He wrapped his arms tighter around her. "I think I already did."

Buffy glanced up from the dagger she was sharpening as Faith re-entered the motel room an hour later, looking pink cheeked and gloriously happy. She lifted an eyebrow and cocked her head to the side as she studied her friend. "You look different."

Faith blushed, her eyes quickly darting around the room to make sure they were alone. "Dude...I think I just lost my virginity."

Buffy, Faith, Sam and Dean drove back to Roy's tent of healing later that night, a sense of foreboding in the air amongst them as they prepared to find some way to stop Roy before he could heal someone else – a two sided coin, because whether they let him continue his work or not, somebody was always going to die.

Once parked up, they climbed out of the car and stood in a huddle as they made their plans.

"I think the only way Roy could be controlling the reaper is by using some kind of a spell," Sam advised. "Which means he must have a spell book. I'll head on over to his house to look for it."

"Good idea," Dean agreed. "Faith, you go with him. Buffy can come with-"

"No," Faith protested. "I'll come with you. Buffy can go with Sam."

Dean eyed Faith carefully. "Okay. But you can't let him distract you. We have a job to do here."

"I won't, I promise." She didn't even have to ask who he was talking about.

Buffy and Sam waited impatiently until Roy and his wife left their home for the tent before sneaking in via the back door and Sam' very handy lock picking skills.

Sam – as observant as ever – quickly spotted the dustless book on the bookshelf, and he called out triumphantly to Buffy when he discovered the small spell book hidden inside.

Pieces of the puzzle began to come together as they glanced through it.

"Call Dean," Buffy instructed. "Let him know that Roy chooses victims he believes are immoral, and make sure he stops him from healing anybody while we find the protester. We can't let him kill another innocent man."

"Was that Sam?" Faith asked Dean as he snapped his cell phone shut. She grimaced apologetically to the woman who turned around to glare at where they were standing at the back of the tent.

He nodded. "Yep. They know who the next victim is."

"Who?"

"The guy protesting outside."

"The one handing out leaflets?"

"Yuh huh. The only one out of these folks with their head screwed on tight."

"Right. So what do we do?"

"We need to find a way to stop Roy from healing anyone."

Faith shrugged an rolled back her shoulders. "No problem. We'll just cause a little havoc, probably get chased out of here by a bunch of people who wanna gut us. Same old, same old. So what-"

"Noah." The sound of the name coming from Roy punctured Faith right through her heart, and stopped her speaking mid-sentence. "Noah Pritchard. Come on up here my good man. It's your time, son."

The tent was filled with he sound of happy cheers and applause.

Frozen in her place, Faith could only watch as Noah broke out into a shocked, ecstatic grin, lighting up his whole face. He looked around the room disbelievingly before catching her eye. 'I love you,' he mouthed, before standing up.

Spotting this, Dean felt his heart die a little for Faith, who deserved this love so bad. "I'm sorry," he said. "But we can't let this happen.

"I know." Her voice shook a little.

Noah made sure to take the long way around the tent towards the stage so that he could pass by Faith, and she grabbed at his arm as he went by.

"Noah, you can't go up there," she whispered.

He laughed and shook his head, assuming that she was joking. "Babe, don't be crazy." He placed a quick kiss on her lips. "It worked for your friend, right?" He was gone before she had time to further protest.

"Damn. What are we gonna do now?" Dean hissed.

Feeling like she might actually shatter inside, Faith watched as Roy lowered his hands towards Noah.

Just one more minute. She could wait just one more minute and then Noah would be healed and he wouldn't die and they could be together.

Just one more minute and she would knowingly be responsible for the death of another man. And she'd been responsible for enough of them already.

Turning, she kicked hard at one of the poles holding up the tent, snapping it clean in half. Just as she'd hoped, the whole side of the tent began to fall, creating chaos within. People jumped up out of their chairs and hurried towards the exit, shrieking. Over their heads, she watched Roy stop what he was doing to be escorted outside.

And she watched as Noah's face went from hopeful, to anguished.

As Faith hurried out of the tent, Dean guessed that she must be off to find Noah, and so he let her go. The tent – only half collapsed – had stopped falling now, but it had done the trick and stopped the service.

"Did it work?" Dean asked Sam, once he had called him.

Out at the far end of the parking lot, Sam took a look at the protester, who seemed calmer and less afraid as Buffy checked him over. "Yeah, I think so. He's not dead, anyway. What happened?"

"Sam!"

He glanced up at the sound of Buffy's scared yell. The protester was on his knees, clutching at his heart and gasping.

"Dean, it didn't work!" he cried into the phone. "It didn't work! Roy must not be the one controlling the reaper! You have to do something!"

Dean span around desperately and ran a hand through his hair. "Do what? If it's not Roy then hell if I know-"

The preacher's wife was still in the tent. In the corner. Chanting.

"Well, lookey here..."

Faith cursed, frustration coursing through her when she was unable to find Noah anywhere amongst the crowd that had gathered outside the tent. "Oh man," she exclaimed with a sigh, spotting Dean being escorted out of the tent by a couple of pissed off looking policemen. She stepped over just in time to hear Roy's wife declare that she wouldn't be pressing charges against Dean, and to ominously announce that the Lord would deal with him instead. "What the hell happened after I left?" Faith demanded, once they were alone.

"I found out she's the one controlling the reaper," he hissed. "Not Roy."

"Damn! Now there's a twist in the tale! Did you manage to stop her? Is the protester okay? Tell me I didn't kick that pole down for nothing."

"I think so. I'll have to check with Sam to be sure. But..."

"But what?" she asked, wondering why he hadn't finished his sentence. With a churning stomach, she noticed him looking somewhere over her shoulder and turned slowly.

"Noah..."

"You knocked that pole down?" Noah demanded, looking betrayed. "You did that?"

"I'm sorry, Noah...I had to."

"I don't understand. That was probably the only chance I was ever gonna get to get better. I...I thought you loved me? Faith...I don't want to die."

She stepped towards him, her arms reaching out of their own accord. Her heart splintered when he took a step away from her. Dropping her arms, she shoved her hands into her back pockets. "Roy isn't a healer, Noah. I can't explain it to you, but he isn't what he says he is."

"But he healed your friend. He healed Dean. Why couldn't you let him heal me too?"

"You wouldn't want this. Not if you really knew."

He shook his head, his disappointment in her blaring out like a light. "Look, I have to go. My mom and my sister are waiting, and they're both real upset. I...Goodbye, Faith. I just...I hope everything goes well for you. I really do."

For the second time, Faith had to watch him walk away from her with a broken heart. Dean put his arm around her. "I'm real sorry."

"Don't be," she answered, leaning her head on his shoulder. "It had to be done. I wish...I wish...I just wish."

"I know."

"That's great," Dean said down the phone, after learning from Sam that the protester was safe. "At least one thing is good around here. We'll meet you back at the car, okay?...Yeah, bye."

He glanced around for Faith, who was still seated on the bench he had left her on a couple of minutes before, looking lost.

"And this time we'll do it privately, so there are no interruptions. Just us and family." Dean looked up at the sound of Roy the reverend's voice, spotting him not too far away talking to Noah's mother. "I give you my word, Mrs Pritchard, I will heal your son. Just like the Lord has demanded."

Dean groaned. It wasn't over. He should have know it wouldn't be that simple. He shot a quick peak at Faith to make sure she hadn't overheard, and then redialled Sam.

Buffy knocked on the motel bathroom door, unsurprised when it went ignored. Nervously, she turned the knob, relieved to find the door unlocked. "Faith," she called out, her voice gentle.

Her stomach tied itself up into knots when she spotted her best friend, sat fully clothed in the empty bathtub, her arms wrapped around her knees as she rocked back and forth. Startled, she looked up at the sound of Buffy's voice, and Buffy was distressed to see that her cheeks were stained with tear tracks.

She'd never seen her cry before, not in all the time she'd known her.

Swallowing tears of her own, she climbed in the bathtub behind Faith and wrapped her arms around her.

Faith sniffed and welcomed the comfort gladly. "I know it's dumb, but I thought that maybe God was giving Noah to me because he was finally forgiving me," she said hoarsely. "I should have known that it's never going to happen."

"I'm sorry," was all Buffy could think of to say. "I'm so, so sorry."

"So Roy probably has absolutely no idea what his wife is doing, does he?" Buffy asked Dean in a hushed voice an hour later, after she had finally gotten Faith tucked into one of the motel beds and asleep.

"Nope. The poor guy really does believe he's casting miracles."

"What are we gonna do now?"

"Well...we know how she's doing the mojo now we've got the spell-book you and Sam found. But she'll need to be using an alter for this kind of work, so Sam's gonna go find that while I destroy the cross I saw her wearing."

"I should stay here with Faith. She really doesn't need to have to stop this twice."

"That's a good idea."

"Good luck."

"Poor Roy," Buffy mused out loud the following morning. "He's so innocent in all of this, and now he's lost his wife, his ability to heal, his followers, his whole purpose in life.

"I know," Dean agreed. "I mean, nothing about this situation was right, but the guy deserves better. He's a good man."

Faith entered the room and the pair hushed up. "You all done packing?"

They nodded in reply and Dean handed her a cup of coffee. "Yeah, we're packed up and ready to go. Are you?"

"Yep. I just wanna get the hell outta this town as fast as we can."

There was a knock at the door, and Buffy rose to answer it, a secretive smile on her lips.

Faith's heart skipped an entire beat when Noah entered the room, standing awkwardly in the centre, just like she had done in his.

"Uh...hey," he said.

"Hi," she replied quietly. "How did you know where I was staying?"

"I might know a little something about hacking, too."

"Really?"

"Nah. But, uh...Buffy called me. She said you guys were leaving town today and I...I guess I just wanted to stop by and say goodbye."

Grabbing a hold of the back of their shirts, Buffy began to drag Sam and Dean out of the room. "We're just going to go and grab some food for the road."

"Yeah, because we like the...um...food," Sam added pathetically, earning a snort from Dean before the three disappeared.

"Smooth," Noah commented, moving over to sit on one of the beds.

"They do try."

He shrugged. "I like them."

"Yeah, me too. Listen, Noah, it's not that I'm not happy to see you or anything, because...well you have no idea. But what are you doing here? I thought you'd be glad I'm leaving."

He sighed and looked down at his shoes. "I went back so see Roy last night. He was going to heal me."

"Oh..." Surprised at the revelation, Faith sat down next to him. "And?"

"Nothing." He shook his head in disbelief. "He managed to heal all those other people and with me there was just nothing. It didn't work."

She reached out to touch his hand, but her cowardice won out and she withdrew at the last second. "I'm so sorry, Noah. I know how much you really believed in him."

"No. I mean, yes, I did believe in him. But no, don't be sorry for me. It made me see things clearly. Finally."

"Like what?"

"Like how death is really nothing to be afraid of."

She blinked in surprise. "Really?"

Scooting a little closer to her, he nodded. "Yeah. I realized that even though I'm still young, I've lived a totally great life. I got to travel a while, see some amazing things. I have an awesomely supportive family...I finally fell in love for the first time."

A lonely tear escaped from the corner of Faith's eye, and Noah leaned forward to kiss it away.

"I'd better go," he told her. "We're leaving tomorrow and I've got a bunch of packing to do." He stood up and made his way over towards the door.

"Wait," she called after him, standing up.

He turned around and looked at her questioningly.

"Noah, I...I...God, this is harder than it looks in the movies. Noah, I love you. In a way that I've never loved anyone before. Not in my whole life.

He sucked in a breath and strode forwards, taking her face between his hands and pressing a hard kiss on her lips. "Then I guess there really is such a thing as miracles."

Pressing her forehead against his, she squeezed her eyes shut tightly to stop the onslaught of tears that she knew was coming. "I'll pray for you," she promised. "Every day and every night I'll pray for you."

"Wherever you are, wherever you go, know that as long as I live I'll be doing the same for you. I'll pray for you, and I'll dream about you."

Faith didn't open her eyes when she felt him pull away. She didn't open them when she heard his footsteps on the wooden floor. And she didn't open them when she heard the click of the door as he walked out of the room, out of her life.

Forever.

Dean eyed Faith in the mirror of his car as he prepared to drive them away. She was curled up in the back seat, looking more miserable than he had ever seen her. "You know, we could always hang around another day if-"

"No," she interrupted. "Let's just leave here. I just want to leave."

He nodded, and as the car began to move out of town, they all knew that it would be a long time before any of them spoke.


	31. Chapter 31

Everything's Gonna Change

AN – I posted two chapters the other day, so make sure you've checked them both out before reading this one :)

Everything's Gonna Change

"Cheers, guys." Sam clinked his beer bottle against Dean's, Buffy's and Faith's. "Another hunt down, another demon dead."

"I think it went really well," Buffy commented. "One of our best, in fact."

Dean set his bottle down on the table, a wide grin on his face. "Yeah, it's not often we get a job where no one at all gets killed. It feels nice to save everyone."

"We should celebrate," Faith suggested. "Do something fun."

He frowned. "I thought that's what we were doing now."

She rolled her eyes and flicked a beer mat at him. "I mean something fun other than drinking. Man, I know I like a beer or two but you're something else. A flask of whisky is your answer to everything."

Actually, Dean was finding himself drinking a lot less these days. Ever since he and Buffy had been getting their sex on with each other he'd not felt the need to drink himself to sleep each night. He wished he could throw this in Faith's face. Instead, he asked her, "What do you wanna do?"

She shrugged.

Dean lit up with a sudden idea. "How about a theme park?"

"Random."

He looked at Buffy. "Remember a couple of weeks ago you told me you'd never been?"

She smiled prettily, surprised that he had remembered such a little thing.

"You've never been to a theme park?" Faith exclaimed. "You clearly have never lived, girlfriend."

"That's decided then," Dean announced. "Tomorrow we'll-"

"Wait a second," Sam interrupted. "I'm not so sure this is a good idea, guys."

Dean playfully punched him in the arm. "Come on, little bro'. Lighten up a little, would ya?"

"I just think that we really need to start getting our heads screwed on and knuckle down and find Dad."

"And we will. The day after tomorrow. One little day ain't gonna hurt no one."

"It might hurt Dad."

"Dad can take care of himself."

Buffy stuck her bottom lip out at Sam. "Please, Sam. Pwetty, pwetty pwease?"

Faith slid over in the booth until she was right next to him and laid her head upon his shoulder, looking, looking up at him with wide eyes. "With sugar on top? Come on, Sammy. Say yes and we'll love you forever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever-"

"Okay, okay!" He held his hands up in surrender, breaking out into a chuckle when Faith hugged him ad Buffy and Dean cheered.

"Ooh! Look at that one! It's so tall! An I think it goes underground, too!"

Her companions chuckled at Buffy's excitement as they strolled through the theme park the next day.

"Can we go on it?" she asked. "Can we, can we, can we?"

Faith scoffed. "No thanks. It's got the longest line out of all the rides. No way am I standing around for that long like a complete moose."

"Yeah, it does seem a bit pointless to wait over an hour for something that's gonna last less than a minute," Sam added.

Dean huffed. "You two are complete grouches, you know that. Come on, Buffy, I'll go with you."

"Thank you." She stuck her tongue out playfully at Sam and Faith.

"We'll meet you back by the hot-dog stand when you're done," Sam called after them as they departed. He turned to Faith and held out his arm in a gentlemanly manner. "May I escort you to the hot-dog stand, milady?"

She looped her arm through his and fluttered her eyelashes, and putting on a high pitched voice, she replied, "Yes sir, you may."

Buffy sighed and crossed her arms frustratedly as they stood in the line for the ride. Dean was giving her thatlook again. "Stop it."

"Stop what?"

"Looking at me like that. We're not having this discussion again, it's pointless."

He frowned, looking very sulky and shoving his hands into is pockets. "I just don't see what the problem is. I think it's way past time we told Sam and Faith about us."

"Dean, we've gone over and over this all week, and I still just don't think it's a good idea. I'm sorry."

"Is this still about Faith? Because if it is then that' a crappy excuse and you know it. You saw her with Noah the other week. She' clearly over the idea of me and her ever having anything again. Don't you think she's gonna be more pissed that we kept it a secret from her? I know Sam will."

"I just want to wait a while. Why can't you just respect that?"

"Why? Are you scared or something?" Dean caught a flash of something in her eyes, and e knew he had hit the mark. "Scared of what? He asked, his voice softer now. "Of Faith? Us?"

She hugged her arms to her body. "I'm confused, okay?"

"Confused about what?"

"This. Us! It's all so new. And as amazing as it is, I just don't see the point in telling people that we're together when I don't even know if we really are!"

It suddenly all made sense to Dean, and he felt like a complete dick. All this time he'd been pressuring her because he'd thought she was embarrassed of them, but all she'd really needed was some reassurance. "Sweetheart," he said firmly. "we're together."

"Really?"

"Hell yeah! What do you think these past few weeks have been about?"

She shrugged, looking uncertain and embarrassed. "I know what it's been about for me, but I know how you prefer it casual, so..."

"Not with you!" Man, this girl could be so blind!

"So...what does that mean?"

"Do I really have to spell it out to you?"

"Kinda."

He huffed and looked down at he ground shyly, scuffing his boot on the metal step they were stood on. He couldn't believe she was making him do this. "You're my...ya know, girlfriend...and stuff."

Buffy smiled happily, feeling her crazy mind finally clicking into place. "Are you my boyfriend."

He pulled her into his arms, feeling much more confident about the sharing stuff now that she was responding positively. "Yuh huh. And we are in a relationship. A real one. With emotions and everything." He looked very proud of himself.

Standing up on her tiptoes, Buffy placed a kiss on the patch of neck underneath his ear. "And sex," she whispered. "Lots and lots of sex."

"Definitely lots of sex," he agreed heartily. He kissed her, and then he kissed her some more. And then just when people around them began to shift uncomfortably, he kissed her even more.

"Gross!" spat a chubby kid standing behind them.

Finally pulling away, Buffy wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled blissfully. "Okay."

"Okay what?"

"Okay, we'll tell them. As soon as we finish the ride we'll tell them we're together."

He squeezed her waist excitedly. "Awesome."

"Mmm," Faith moaned, closing her eyes in ecstasy. "I know they're full of chemicals and a whole bunch of junk, but these hot-dogs have got to be the nicest frikkin' things I've ever tasted."

"I guess," Sam agreed. "I hate to think what it's doing to my insides though." He put down his half eaten hot-dog, which Faith wasted no time in snatching up and finishing off.

"You're such a woman," she said. "Give me a slurp of your coke."

He obliged, grinning and shaking his head. It was good to see her enjoying herself, and even better to see her with a smile upon her face. She hadn't been doing much smiling ever since they'd left Noah back in Nebraska. It was understandable, but Sam had missed it. "I'm glad we came," he admitted.

"Yeah, me too. It's been fun. And I'm happy you changed your mind so easily."

He rolled his eyes and nudged her. "Bit hard to say no when you're pulling that wide eyed look at me."

"You mean this one?" She lowered her head and looked up at him through her lashes.

Sam felt the flap of a butterfly wing in his stomach, and he quickly looked away, feeling conflicted and confused. "Uh...yeah. That's the one."

"Anyway, all that coke's made me need to take a whizz. Where's the toilet?"

Glad to be on safer ground, Sam craned his neck around and pointed. "I think the nearest one was over by the ride Buffy and Dean are on."

"Cool. I'll be back in five."

"I'll be here."

Faith strolled over towards the ride, smirking smugly to herself when she saw that the line to go on was longer than ever. She paused and gazed up, hoping to spot Buffy and Dean so that she could whistle for their attention and point and laugh at them for being dumb enough to get stuck up there. She found the fat kid who had joined the line right after them, and frowned when they didn't seem to be in front of him. Maybe if that couple next to him would stop making out for one second and move then she might actually be able to see them – they were probably somewhere behind them. God, get a room much?

Her eyes narrowed when the kissing couple shifted a little, and Faith got an eyeful of what the girl was wearing.

A red leather jacket.

Very similar, in fact, to the red leather jacket that Faith had lent Buffy that very morning.

The reason she couldn't see Buffy and Dean behind the kissing couple was because they were the kissing couple.

Faith's fists clenched as she saw red. Everything was about to change.


	32. Chapter 32

The Benders

AN – Parts of this chapter inspired by the Supernatural episode 'The Benders'

The Benders

The reason she couldn't see Buffy and Dean behind the kissing couple was because they were the kissing couple.

Faith's fists clenched as she saw red. Everything was about to change.

Perhaps luckily for everybody who happened to be within a five meter radius of Faith at that moment, her cellphone began to chime loudly. She snatched it out of her pocket and flipped it open. "What?" she snapped.

"Faith? Is that you? It's Giles, here."

"Yeah? What do you want?"

"Well, I see somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning."

Yeah, Faith really wasn't in the mood. "Bye, Giles."

"No, wait! Don't put the phone down. I have something important to ask of you."

She heaved an impatient sigh. "Well?"

"You know, I did try to contact Buffy first, but she doesn't seem to be answering her phone."

"Yeah well, she's a little busy right now sticking her tongue down Dean's throat."

"I beg your pardon?"

She rolled her eyes. "Nothing. Was there an actual reason for calling, Giles, or was it just to check up on the whereabouts of Little Miss Angel-face?"

"Actually, I have a job for you."

"Woohoo. What is it?"

"A retired watcher of ours – and a good friend, actually – has vanished into thin air. Alvin Jenkins of the Minnesota area."

"And you think it's something demonic?"

"Yes, I do. I-"

"Fine, we'll check it out. Text me the details."

"Thank you. Oh, and-"

She'd snapped her phone shut before he had time to finish his sentence. Forgetting all about her full bladder, she turned away from the ride and the sick site of her best friend betraying her, and stormed back over to where Sam was waiting for her. She could practically feel the black storm clouds gathering over her head.

"Hey, you!" he called, his face brightening when he saw her approach. "I thought you'd be longer than that. Wasn't there a line?"

"We've got a new job," she informed him curtly. "So we're leaving. Now." She twirled around and started towards the car park.

"Wait!" Sam called after her. "Where are you going? We need to get Dean and Buffy and the ride they went on is the other way."

"Ha!" She snorted and stopped to turn and face him. "And why the hell would we need a pair of two faced bastards like them for?"

"What?" He looked very confused at her reasoning. "Faith, what's going on?"

"God, nothing! Jeez!"

"It doesn't seem like nothing to me. Just a couple of minutes ago you were smiling and having fun and now you look just about ready to stick an axe in someone. And what were you talking about when you said that thing about Buffy an Dean-"

She stepped forwards, a dangerous glint in her eyes. "Fine! You want them so much, you can go and get them yourself!"

"But-"

Faith shoved him with both hands, causing him to stumble backwards. "Go!" she screamed loudly, uncaring of the people around them staring. "Go!"

Sam backed away with his arms up defensively, secretly a little afraid that if he didn't do as she asked, she would use her full strength to make him do it. So with a heavy heart, he turned away from her to find Dean and Buffy.

"Excuse me...Sorry...Excuse me..." Sam grunted as he got an elbow to the stomach as he tried to push his way through the line to find Buffy and Dean.

"Hey!" a harassed looking woman called shrilly. "Get to the back of the line, ass-wipe! No pushing!"

Sighing with frustration, Sam took out the fake police badge he kept in his pocket and held it up. "Don't make me arrest you for holding up and verbally abusing an officer of the law, miss. Just get out of my way."

Looking embarrassed, she shuffled aside, and Sam continued on ahead, using his badge to get through the crowd faster. He cursed Buffy and Dean for ignoring their cell phones.

Finally, he caught a glimpse of the top of Dean's head, and he called out to him, but Dean didn't hear him over the noise and chatter of the people between them. He pushed a little closer, and then stopped when he finally realized exactly what it was that had caused Faith to get so mad.

If he was being completely honest with himself, he had to admit that a tiny little part of him had kind of expected it.

Dean stood behind Buffy, and his arms were wrapped around her waist. One of his hands rested just underneath her shirt, and Sam could see his thumb stroking an idle pattern against her visible skin. His chin rested on top of her head, and as Sam watched, he placed an absent minded kiss on her hair. It seemed such a normal gesture, and all Sam could do was stand and stare.

Buffy was beginning to regret her insistence on going on this particular ride. The were still in line, her feet were sore, and they weren't even half way there yet. Although, she was enjoying the quality time spendage with Dean. It was rare that they ever got a couple of minutes to themselves – although hopefully things would go well when they came clean to Faith and Sam, and then they'd get to spend more than a few stolen moments together here and there. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that Faith would react a whole lot better to the situation when she was told face to face about it.

Leaning back into Dean's arms, she smiled dreamily.

It was only seconds later that she felt that creeping sensation crawling up the back of her neck – the one that usually meant that someone, or something, was watching her. She turned, and her heart skipped an uncomfortable beat when she saw Sam, watching them with a strange look upon his face. She opened her mouth to say something, and then closed it again when she realized that she was unable to form words.

Feeling her stiffen against him, Dean looked over his shoulder to see what she was staring at.

Oh crap!

For once, Dean found himself as equally speechless as Buffy was, but his hold on her tightened, as if he was afraid that she would bolt.

Eventually, they saw Sam shake his head in what could only be described as disgust. "We have to go," he explained, loud enough for them to hear. "We have a case to get to." And then he was gone, pushing his way back out of the line as fast as he could, desperate to get away from two of the people he trusted more than anyone in the whole world...desperate to get away from the two people who had been lying to him for he could only imagine how long.

Buffy and Dean shared an agonized look, before releasing one another to chase after him.

"Sam!" Dean called, rudely shoving people out of his way as he tried to catch up. "Sam, wait up! We need to talk! Come on, man, don't be like this!"

Sam was quickly going from pissed to furious. What the hell had they been thinking? Lying, cheating! Putting them all at rick with their utter, complete selfishness! He stopped, suddenly, and turned to face his brother. "Why? Are you going to tell me that it wasn't what it looked like?" Man, how could Dean have lied to him like this? When Sam had asked him, time and time again, whether or not there was something going on between him and Buffy. And Dean had just lied to him, right to his face. Because it was blatantly obvious from the intimate way they had been standing that the whole romance thing wasn't new. How could he have been so stupid? He'd suspected it so often, but had chosen to ignore it in favour of an easier life.

"No," Dean admitted boldly. He took Buffy's hand in his own, comforted somewhat when she squeezed it tightly. "It's exactly what it looks like."

Sam breathed out a puff of air. "Wow. You know, you really are something else. Absolutely unbelievable. This is just so typical of you, Dean! Screw around with one girl, and then move on to her best friend when you get bored. But I really thought you had enough respect for Faith and Buffy to hold off just this one time. What was I thinking, huh?"

Fury pumped right through Dean at his words, and it was only due to the fact that Buffy was still holding tightly on to his hand that he didn't beat the holy frikkin' crap out of his brother. "It's not like that!" he protested. "It was never like that. What me and Faith had was nothing. What me and Buffy have...it'severything!"

Sam peered at Dean through narrowed eyes, his mind spinning at what sounded suspiciously like sincerity in his voice.

"Does Faith know?" Buffy asked quietly, speaking up for the first time.

"Well, my suspicions were raised just a tiny bit when I saw you trying to lick the faces off of each other."

All three turned towards the bitter voice. Faith stood behind them, her arms crossed and her foot tapping impatiently. It was clearly visible that she was only just containing her anger.

Buffy dropped Dean's hand and stepped towards her. "Faith, I-"

Faith held up a halting hand. "Yeah, I really don't care."

"But-"

"I don't want to hear it!" she roared. "Luckily for all of us, Giles has a job for us in Minnesota. So let's just cut the chat and go."

"I think you owe it to her to do as she says," Sam said, before following after her.

The car journey to Minnesota was understandably one of the most uncomfortable that Buffy had ever endured. Faith and Sam had refused to speak, and Buffy and Dean had just been afraid to.

As usual, the first thing they did when they arrived in town was to find a motel. And as soon as they had parked up, Faith had grabbed her bag, slammed out of the car and stalked into the motel reception. The other three followed her inside just in time to hear her ask for a single room.

"Faith, please, we really should talk..." Buffy tried.

Faith simply collected her key and walked right past Buffy without so much as a word.

Feeling uncomfortable and unsure about what to do, Sam saw no other option but to step forwards and ask for their usual adjoining rooms, silently hoping that Faith would calm down over the next couple of days that they were in town. After collecting their keys he turned and paused, his eyes widening and his head tilting to one side at what he saw.

On the other side of the room, Buffy was tucked into Dean's chest. His arms were around her, swaying her gently and stroking her hair as he comforted her.

For the very first time, it occurred to Sam that maybe, just maybe, this was actually the real thing for Dean. Maybe he wasn't just messing Buffy around. Maybe he wasn't just using her for sex. Maybe he did have actual real feelings for her.

An image of Jess flashed through his mind, and he thought about how he'd do just about anything to have her back, even just for a minute.

But she was gone, along with their chance at living a happy life together. Dean and Buffy's wasn't, and he sure as hell wasn't going to be selfish and ruin that for them.

"Come on," he said gently. "Let's go put our bags down." As he passed by them, he clapped a hand briefly on Dean's shoulder.

"So...what do we do now?" Buffy asked, once she and Sam and Dean had settled into their rooms. They had tried knocking on Faith's door, but unsurprisingly, there had been no answer.

Sam glanced up at her. "About Faith or..."

"About the job," she answered quickly.

"I guess we should wait until morning – it's too late to start questioning people now. We'll get some sleep and then visit the witness tomorrow. And maybe Faith will have cooled down by then."

Buffy and Dean nodded in agreement, and the room fell into uncomfortable silence.

It occurred to Sam that Buffy and Dean probably wanted to be alone, and he stood up awkwardly. "Uh...so I'm gonna go get some sleep. In the other room. Call me if you need me."

"Yeah. Wait, Sam," Dean called after him. "Thanks, man."

Sam nodded in response and then disappeared into the next room.

Finally alone, Dean settled down into a chair and pulled Buffy down on top of him. He circled his arms around her and she leaned her head on his shoulder.

"It'll be okay," he soothed, stroking her neck with the tips of his fingers.

"You were right," she acknowledged. "We should have just told Faith right from the start, before she had to find out like that."

"Maybe," he replied. "But it's done now. And she'll come around, she will. Right now she's just pissed because she feels like she's been left out of the loop."

Buffy nodded. "Yeah, she'll come around." But she didn't sound convinced.

"How are you feeling now?" Dean asked, after they had sat in silence for a while longer.

"Horrible, two-faced, ashamed...relieved."

"Relieved?"

"Yuh huh. I mean, it's not the way I wanted Faith and Sam to find out about us, but at least it's in the open now. Although it will be totally weird being able to touch you and kiss you in public whenever I want. Good weird."

Dean felt a waterfall of his own relief shower down upon him. "So...you're still with me?"

She pulled back and glanced down at him, confused. She waved a hand between them, indicating the intimate way they were seated. "Unless this is how you sit with everyone – and if it is then we seriously need to have a little talk, mister – then the answer to that should be obvious."

"I know." He shook his head at his own idiocy. "I'm just being paranoid and stupid. It's just...I wanted you for so long, and now I have you and I just...I don't wanna lose you."

"Why on earth would you think you'd lose me, dummy?"

He shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe you don't think I'm worth the hassle. I mean, Faith knows about us now and she's clearly pissed as hell about it..."

"Can you blame her? Faith and I are practically sisters, and I just stole her guy. That's wrong on so many levels."

"I was never Faith's guy."

"You know what I mean. Just...imagine if you and I broke up and then I started dating Sam in secret. Wouldn't you be mad if you found out?" She winced, as his grip around her tightened. "Ow...Dean, stop squeezing me, it's not actually going to happen. It was just an example."

He released her and blew out a long puff of air. "Yeah, I guess to do see what you mean." But a part of him still needed reassuring. "You're not gonna leave me though, right?"

She rested her forehead against his, her heart aching for the secret vulnerabilities he hid so well beneath his tough surface. "I told you before – that will never happen. I'll never leave you. Ever."

Dean kissed her. "Say it again."

"I'll never leave you."

He stood up suddenly, pulling her up with him and carrying her in his arms over to one of the beds. He laid her down and climbed over her."

"Promise me," she expressed, looking up at me. "Promise me it'll all be okay."

He wished more than anything that he'd ever wished for that he could make it come true for he. God, he wished it. And he couldn't lie to her, and give her empty promises. He loved her too much. "I'll try," he settled for in the end. "I'll try so hard."

She opened her legs to allow him to settle between them. "That's more than enough for me."

They made a soft and hazy kind of love.

His hands as he pushed away her clothes were warm, gentle.

The skin she pressed up into him was silky.

His movements inside of her were loving, caring.

And even after everything that had happened that day, their hearts were filled with complete contentment as they fell asleep in one another's arms.

The next morning, Dean and Buffy were abruptly awoken by a pounding sound on the motel room door.

"What the hell is that?" Dean groaned sleepily, sliding his head underneath his pillow.

Sam stumbled into the room, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. "Who's banging on the- whoa!" His eyes widened when he realized that both Buffy and Dean were naked, and that the sheet was barely covering them. Coming to his senses, he twirled away and covered his eyes. "Oh God! I am so sorry! I didn't even think to knock. I should have known you'd be...Oh God."

Buffy yanked the sheet around herself and scrambled up out of bed, her entire body flushing in embarrassment. "Don't worry about it, Sam. I guess we all need to get used to the new situation."

Dean chuckled heartily, and had a t-shirt thrown in his face for his efforts.

"Okay, we're both decent now," Buffy told Sam a few moments later.

"Uh...okay." He turned back around, still blushing.

The banging on the door continued, and Sam hurried over to answer it. "Faith! Hey! How are you this morning?"

Faith ignored Sam and pushed past him to get into the room. "Finally. I thought I was gonna have to break the door down."

Buffy smiled uncertainly at her. "Faith, I'm really glad you're here. I thought maybe you and I could go grab some breakfast and talk."

Faith glanced from one bed – neat and unused – to the other – well ruffled – and her expression darkened. "Yeah, no thanks. The only reason I'm here is because we have business to do. Once we find this Jenkins guy we go our separate ways, okay?"

Buffy wanted to protest to this, but a look from Dean told her to save it until later. Perhaps working together would get Faith to warm up again, and then they'd be able to talk to her.

"Uh...so how do we go about the case then?" Dean asked. "I was thinking-"

"I don't care what you were thinking," Faith interrupted coldly. "You and Sam are going to go and steal some cop outfits to go question that kid who saw Jenkins get taken. I'm gonna go check out the area."

"What about me?" Buffy questioned.

"Do whatever you want. You usually do." And then she walked right out of the room.

"I'm gonna go with her," Buffy told Sam and Dean. "Maybe if I just keep on talking to her she'll eventually talk back."

They nodded, and she slipped on her shoes and headed towards the door.

"Wait." Dean grasped her arm and swung her around, planting a quick kiss on her lips. It was far from the most fiery or passionate kiss they had shared, but it was sweet and in front of his brother and when he pulled back, there was something a lot like happiness shining from Dean's eyes.

She smiled up at him, and then left to follow Faith.

When Dean turned back around, he found Sam staring right at him. "Don't," he ordered.

"Don't what?"

"Don't start lecturing me."

Sam held his hands up. "I wasn't going to."

"No?"

"No. I was just thinking that I guess I can see how much you and Buffy really care about each other. I mean, you both went about this whole thing totally the wrong way, but if you really are serious about her, then it's a good thing, I think."

"Trust me, bro, I'm serious."

"I'm glad. She's good for you."

Dean rolled his eyes and punched Sam in the arm. "Whatever, Mary Kate. Girl moment officially over. Let's go talk to the kid."

"Yeah, she may be good for you but you're still a big jerk."

"And you're still a little bitch. So we're even."

No matter how much she chattered, or what she said, Faith continued to remain cool and unresponsive towards Buffy as they searched the area where Jenkins had been taken. But together they found a set of tire marks, which although Faith declared probably had nothing to do with the hunt, they made sure to tell Dean and Sam of them when the four met up later on.

"And the little boy actually saw Mr Jenkins get dragged under the car?" Buffy asked.

"Yeah," Sam replied. "Poor kid."

"He must have been scared out of his mind."

"He also said he heard some kind of a screeching sound. Know any demons like that?"

"Only about a gazillion."

"Then I guess we start researching then, narrow it down."

"Joy."

"But," Sam started, glancing between Faith and Buffy. "we could grab a bite to eat first. Maybe get a beer or something."

Buffy smiled gratefully at his attempts to get them all to spend some time together, but Faith merely stood and flicked off a speck of dust from her pants. "No thanks. I'm going back to my room."

After she had left, Buffy sighed sadly. "Thanks, Sam. It was worth a try."

"I'm just sorry it didn't work out. We could still go though."

"I'm kind of tired. I think I'll just head on back and get some sleep."

"I'll come with you," Dean spoke up immediately.

Buffy rolled her eyes playfully and nudged his arm. "Don't be a dolt. I'm just tired, not sick. Go get a beer, chill out, have some fun."

He grinned at her and squeezed an arm around her shoulders. "You're the best girlfriend ever."

"I know. And don't you forget it."

"So the local police think that this is just a kidnapping case," Sam told Dean, as they played a round of pool in the bar.

"Yeah, I guess it could be. Although you heard what that kid said about that screeching noise."

"I did. I also heard what his mom said. The kid was watching horror movies in the middle of the night. It could just be a case of a big imagination."

"Hmm. You're saying this might not be our kind of gig?"

"Maybe, maybe not. We probably shouldn't leave it to chance. That cop we talked to did say that this county has had more missing persons per capita than any other in the state."

"Right. We'll hang around a couple more days, do a bit more digging, ask a few more questions. It's cool."

"Sounds like a plan."

"Here's your drinks guys."

Sam watched out of the corner of his eye as the busty waitress leaned over Dean to place down his drink, flaunting her shapely figure. She winked down at him and smiled.

Dean barely even glanced her way.

"Wow," Sam expressed, once the waitress had left. "You really have changed."

Buffy wasn't sure what time it was exactly when she was awoken by a rough pair of hands shaking her, but it was still dark out so she knew it couldn't be morning just yet.

"Buffy, wake up!" came Dean's frantic voice."Wake up! He's gone! You have to wake up!"

"Wuh? Who's gone?" She slowly sat up, blinking the sleep out of her eyes.

"Sam! We were leaving the bar and I went to go take a wizz and he was gonna wait for me in the car and when I got there he was gone. I looked everywhere for him, Buffy. He's just gone!"

At his words, she hurried out of bed and stood before him, gripping his shoulders. "Okay, I know it's hard but you have to calm down. Listen to me, we are going to find him."

"I can't believe I let this happen." He pulled away from her and began to pace. "The one most important job my dad ever gave me was to make sure Sam was safe. Always make sure Sam was safe."

"Dean, stop! That kind of thinking won't help. Now sit down, and I'll run and get Faith and then we can make a plan. We'll find him, okay?"

He did as he was told, and Buffy threw a jacket on over her pyjamas and ran down the hall to Faith's room. "Faith, open up!" she yelled, banging on the door until it was answered by a pissed off looking Faith.

"What do you want?"

"Sam's missing."

Instantly, Faith's whole demeanour changed. She locked her motel room door and followed Buffy down the hall. "Tell me everything."

"Finally!" Dean cheered, as he spotted the motel in the distance. They had been walking back from the Bender household for hours. "My feet are on fire!"

"Better your feet than your eyeballs," Sam joked, referring to torture Dean had almost suffered.

Buffy shook her head. "You guys are sick. I feel so dirty. I don't think I'll ever be able to wash that place away. From my body or my brain."

"Yeah," Faith added. "That was one sick household."

They'd worked well together to find Sam, and Buffy grinned over at Faith, sure her friend was on her way to forgiving her. "That was some nice work you did back there," she complimented.

Faith stared at her with a frown on her face. "What are you doing?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean why are you acting like you haven't just stabbed me in the back."

Buffy faltered. "Faith, I-"

"Look, blondie, I put aside our little situation these past twenty four hours for Sam. To help Sam. Not because I want to be best friends again, okay? Because we're not."

"Please, Faith. I just want things to go back to way before. You have to know how sorry I am for lying to you. I hated it."

"Yeah, you hated lying to me so much you just went ahead and did it anyway. You know, after everything we've been through together, after everything we share, the fact that you could just throw it all away fro a guy..." She held her hands up, as if trying to shield herself from any further hurt. "You know what, I think I'm gonna go find a cemetery and beat the crap outta some vamps. I really don't even wanna be around you."

Buffy bit her lip as Faith walked away, determined not to cry in front of Sam and Dean, who were standing somewhat awkwardly a few feet ahead.

"Hey now," Sam soothed eventually, stepping closer and squeezing her arm. "She didn't mean it."

"Yes, she did. And she was right about every word."

"I know I've been saying this a lot, but she'll come around. I promise."

She nodded, grateful that he could be so kind, even after she had lied to him, too.

"I'm gonna go in and take a shower," he informed them. "If I don't wash the stink of those ass-holes off of me soon I'm gonna go insane."

As he looked back from the motel doors, it was to see Dean holding tightly onto Buffy, and her gripping him back just as hard.

It felt good to be wrapped securely in Dean's arms. Held tightly by him, Buffy could almost believe that everything was going to be okay.

After a long couple of minutes, he pulled back and rested his forehead against hers. "I love you."

The entire world fell silent.

Cars ceased to growl, trees stopped rustling, the wind forgot how to whistle, and Buffy felt as if her heart might just explode at any moment.

"You do?"

"Yeah." He nodded his head and smiled, looking a little baffled at his own words. "I'm in love with you big. And I should have told you right after the very first time we kissed."

She giggled. "We were a little busy after the first time we kissed." He chuckled, and she reached up to stroke his stubbly cheek with her fingers. "I love you too."

"Yeah?"

"Yuh huh. So, so much. God, so much that sometimes just thinking about you makes my heart go kind of dizzy."

He breathed out a huff of air, and looked down at her in awe. And then his lips were on hers and he was kissing her madly, before pulling her into a tight hug.

Buffy smiled ruefully as she let go a few moments later. "I think I might take a walk. I just...need to be alone for a while, you know? Clear my head." He looked worried, and she hastened to reassure him. "I'll be an hour, tops. I just need to think about things. Faith, mainly."

"But you're coming back, right?"

"I'm coming back," she promised.

"Because as much as I absolutely hate the idea and want to shoot it in the face, I could possibly understand why you'd want to go home-"

"Dean," she stopped him. "You are my home. Wherever you are, that's where I want to be."

He nodded and sighed with relief, but he didn't look too happy as he released her. "Okay. But...call me if you need me. And...I love you."

Buffy wasn't sure how far she walked, or even how she managed to get her feet to keep on moving when her brain was so damned fried. Out in one of the vague corners of her mind she remembered passing through a cemetery and staking a vampire who had the misfortune to choose her to jump out at, but the rest was a blur. Her mind was too consumed by thoughts of Faith and Sam and Dean to take in anything else.

She hated how much she'd hurt her friend. Hated it so much. But she knew that there was no way she could give up Dean now. She was too in love with him, and for once in her life she was going to be selfish and hang on to her love as hard as she could.

Her feet led her to a road, and the road led her to a bar. She stopped. One drink wouldn't hurt her, and then she'd get back to the motel.

No sooner had she sat down on a stool next to the bar did she feel the air shift as somebody sat down next to her.

"You look as rough as I feel," said a husky female voice. "And there's only one thing that can cause a look like that...man troubles. Am I right?"

Buffy glanced over at the woman. She was pretty, in a Marilyn Monroe kind of way. Blonde and busty with a big, red lipped smile. "Sort of," Buffy answered with a shrug.

"Men. Can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em, huh? Trust me, I know that feeling. Say, why don'tcha let me get you a drink? From one wronged woman to another."

"I'm hardly the woman who's been wronged, but I'd love a drink right about now."

"Great!" The woman held out her hand for Buffy to shake. "I'm Olivia."

"Buffy."

"Ooh! Cute name, buttercup. Very chic." She signalled the bartender, who dropped his cloth and came straight over. "Hey, Pete. Get me and my new friend here a drink, would ya? On me, 'kay?"

If Buffy had been paying more attention to the interaction, instead on thinking glumly of Faith, she might have noticed the significant glance that Olivia and Pete shared.

"Your usual?" Pete asked.

"Sure thing, cherub."

"Coming right up, Livvy."

In no time at all, two small glasses of dark purple liquid had been served to them.

"What is it?" Buffy asked dubiously.

"Little bit of this, little bit of that." Olivia grinned cheekily. "It's strong stuff, but it'll do the trick."

Buffy took a sip and winced. "That is strong."

"You have to drink it all in one, girl! Then it's just an after-taste."

Buffy took a deep breath and did as she was told, coughing as the liquid burned her throat on its way down. "Oh." She gripped the edge of the bar as a wave of dizziness washed over her. It was gone with a second, and Buffy took it as a sign that she and alcohol were never going to mix. "That was weird."

Olivia chuckled. "I'm gonna go ahead and take a wild guess that you aren't a big drinker?"

"Not really."

"That's okay, we can change that. Want another?"

Buffy glanced down at her watch and shook her head. "I really should be getting back. My guy...he worries a lot. But thank you for the drink, Olivia. You cheered me up. For a little while, anyway."

"Any time, cupcake, any time at all. You be careful on your way home, okay?"

Buffy nodded, and with a final smile, she left the bar.

Olivia watched her go, toying with her still full glass. "And don't be thanking me for that drink just yet."

Buffy stumbled as she walked down the road, spreading her hands out in front of her to steady herself – that drink must have been even stronger than she'd originally thought!

After a few more moments she stopped, moving over to lean against a tree. Her vision was blurry and her head was spinning, and she had no idea where she was. There were no houses nearby, no lights, and she hadn't seen a car pass by in a long time. She was all alone.

"Is he here yet?" Olivia asked Pete as she joined him outside, at the back of the bar near the bins. She accepted his light as she pulled a cigarette out of its pack.

"Why, he most certainly is," a low voice replied before Pete had the chance. "My mother always taught me to arrive on time. It's only good manners, after all."

Olivia and Pete turned to the man, wondering how he had gotten so close to them without their noticing. "We did what you wanted," Pete told him. "We gave that blonde chick that stuff. Put it in her drink like you said."

"Well isn't that just divine."

"What was in that crap, anyway?" Olivia wanted to know. "It looked weird as hell."

He grinned and lifted up one shoulder. "Oh, you know. A little bit of this, a little bit of that." The blood of a slayer, the shards of a very special pendant...that kind of thing.

Pete was looking more bored by the second. He took a drag of his own cigarette and flicked the ash onto the floor. "Whatever, man. We did the job. It's time to pay up."

"Certainly. I am a gentleman, after all." He raised his hand, and in less than a second, their necks had been snapped. He looked down at their lifeless bodies, pitilessly. "Smoking is a bad habit, you know?"

With a happy sigh, he smiled and looked up at the sky. In the light of the moon, his yellow eyes glowed.

Buffy slid down the tree trunk to her knees, unable to keep her legs holding her up as her body hummed and her head swam. Terrible thoughts were exploding in her mind. Terrible, terrible memories.

Her mother's wide, empty eyes staring up at the ceiling as she lay across the couch, dead.

That very first moment she caught sight of a vampire. The feel of it crumbling to dust beneath her as she shoved her stake through its heart.

The fear of there being no escape from Spike's hands as he clawed at her robe in the bathroom.

Dean laying in the hospital bed, so grey and close to death.

The dying monk gasping out his last breaths, his final words informing her that Dawn wasn't really her sister, wasn't even really real.

Sticking the sword through Angel's heart, and watching him vanish into hell.

The look of betrayal in Faith's eyes as she backed away.

As more and more of her worst memories filled up her mind, Buffy found that no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't claw her way out of the deep, dark, cold place she was stuck in.

And then there was pain. Burning, biting, searing pain. It attacked every inch of her body, and only got worse the harder she screamed.

And then everything stopped. The pain, the memories, everything.

Still on her knees, she looked up slowly, unsurprised to see the man with the yellow eyes standing in front of her. He held his hand out to her, and she took it, standing.

He smiled at her, and she returned the gesture.

Buffy blinked, and when her eyes opened...they were black.


	33. Chapter 33

Just Gone

Just Gone

"I think I should call her," Dean mentioned to Sam – again – as they watched a crappy old movie in the motel room. "Just to make sure she's okay."

Sam rolled his eyes. His brother had been muttering similar things for at least the past hour. "I thought you said Buffy wanted to be alone for a little while?"

"Yeah, I know." Dean shrugged. "But she said she'd only be an hour, and it's been two. And a half. I have a bad feeling, Sammy."

"She just needs a bit of peace. It's been a hectic few days. She'll be back any minute."

"But what if she isn't?"

"Calm down, man, she will be. She's probably just relaxing by beating the crap out of some vampires, like Faith. You know her style. Just chill out."

But Dean couldn't chill out, and another half an hour of the movie passed by without him having taken anything in. Finally giving up the pretence, he stood up and began to pace. A movement outside the window drew him over.

"Faith's back," he said. "She just walked by towards her room."

Sam glanced up, beginning to feel uneasy. He had expected Faith to return long after Buffy. She had a lot more anger to work through, after all. "Maybe you should call her," he suggested. "If only to find out where she is."

Dean nodded gratefully and flipped open his cellphone. "...It went straight to voice mail," he reported after a minute.

"Maybe it ran out of battery?"

"Come on, Sam, this is Buffy. She's totally OCD about keeping her phone cell charged, just in case there's a problem with the school. God, she's in trouble, I know it!" He ran a shaking hand through his hair. "Screw this! I'm going to look for her!"

"Why don't you just wait a little-"

"Please," he begged hoarsely. "Please, Sam. Please help me find her."

It was the desperation in Dean's eyes that did it for Sam. No way could he turn down his pleas. "Okay." He nodded. "Okay, man. We'll find her. But let me get Faith first. I know she'll want to help."

"Sure, whatever. Just hurry."

Sam slipped out of the room and rushed down the hallway to Faith's room.

"Hey!" she greeted him, after opening the door. "I didn't expect to see you tonight."

"Hey, Faith. We need you-"

"Look, Sam, before you say anything, I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry, 'kay? I know I've been acting like a total ass towards you and you're the one person here who doesn't deserve it."

Her words stopped Sam in his tracks. He wasn't sure Faith had ever admitted to being in the wrong before. It was another new side to her, and he liked it a lot. "Don't worry about it, really. It's been a crazy few days. We've all been acting out of character."

She smiled and leaned against the door frame. "So, did you come to hang? The love bunnies keeping you awake?"

Sam shook himself, remembering what he was there for and getting his head back in the game. "Buffy's missing, Faith."

For a moment, worry flashed in Faith's eyes. But she was quick to mask it and take on a nonchalant expression. "Are you and Buffy taking turns or something?"

"What?"

"Nothing. Why exactly should I care again?"

"Because I know you, Faith. And if Buffy's in trouble, you'll care."

She pursed her lips. "Buffy's a big girl. She can take care of herself."

"I know that. But it's been hours since she was due back, and her phone is off."

"She never turns her phone off." A little of her mask began to slip, and small lines of worry wormed their way onto her face. "And she always checks in. She's a total freak about it."

"Now you see why we're starting to panic?"

She nodded and averted her eyes. "I guess maybe I could help you look for her. Jut because I'm pissed at her and all, doesn't mean I want her dead or nothin'."

"Thank you, Faith."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm a freakin' saint."

They searched for Buffy all night long, and Dean worried. There wasn't a single sign of her, and Dean panicked. Her phone remained switched off, and Dean became terrified. Nobody in town could remember seeing her, and Dean freaked out.

Eventually, he and Sam and Faith were forced to regroup back at the motel, exhausted and all fearing the worst.

"Maybe things here just got too much for her," Faith suggested, feeling like she was grasping for straws even as she spoke the words. "She might have just decided to head on back to Cleveland. Or somewhere else."

"No!" Dean shook his head vehemently, refusing to accept it. "No way. Buffy wouldn't leave me...she promised."

"But-"

"No, just...no. She loves me, okay? So I don't care what you think, she wouldn't leave me! Which means she must be in trouble." He span around and banged his fists against the wall. "God dammit!"

Sam and Faith shared a worried glance. They were scared for Buffy, but Dean was bordering on crazy. He was white skinned, black eyed, and had a wild edge to him.

"Dean's probably right," Sam admitted. "Buffy just wouldn't skip out like that. It's not her style. And she left all her stuff behind."

Faith nodded and slumped down in her seat. "Yeah, I know. Guess I was just hoping for a best case scenario here."

"Aren't we all."

"Why don't we all grab a couple hours sleep," said Faith. "We'll keep our cellphones on in case she calls and head back out in the morning."

"No, I'm gonna keep looking," Dean announced. "And I won't stop until I find her."

Sam rubbed his face with his hands. "Dean, dropping dead from exhaustion won't help Buffy at all."

"And neither will sitting on my ass."

He was gone before either of them had a chance to protest.

24 HOURS LATER

There was still no sign of her. Not even a whisper.

They'd thought that maybe they'd found a lead when a local barman and one of his regulars had been reported missing, but apparently their families had received notes informing them that they had simply ran away together.

Another frustrating dead end.

Dean was beyond frazzled with nerves and exhaustion, and was beginning to see things that weren't really there. More than once he'd fallen asleep on his feet, and Sam and Faith weren't faring much better.

Together, the two of them watched Dean as he sat hunched up on the bed, his head in his hands.

And then Sam sat up suddenly, his eyes widening. "Willow!" he announced, turning to Faith. "She can do that thing, right? That spell that locates people? She could do it to find Buffy!"

Faith could have slapped herself. "Man, of course! I can't believe I didn't already think of that! God, I'm dumb!"

"You're not dumb, Faith, just worried and exhausted. If your head is anything like mine right now it's a jumbled mess."

"You got that right. Pass me my cellphone, would ya?"

"Oh God," Willow moaned, as Faith explained what was going on. "OhGodohGodohGod! Are you sure?"

"She's been gone for a day and a half, Will," Faith answered. "You know that's not like Buffy. And I'm sorry we didn't tell you earlier. My head's just not been in the game."

"No, I totally understand. And you're right, Buffy wouldn't just leave. Except there was that one time she didleave. But they were under extreme circumstances, this isn't the same. You said she got it on with Dean?"

"Yeah."

"She didn't happen to stab him through the heart and send him to hell, did she?"

"No..."

"Then this probably isn't the same. Oh, this is so terrible. My tummy feels all squiggly, and that's never a good sign."

"So can you do the locator spell?"

"Yeah, of course. I'll do it myself right away. And I'll also let the others know about what's happened."

"Great. Call me when it's done, 'kay?"

It took Willow an entire seven minutes to call back. But the minutes seemed to move so slowly that Faith could have sworn it had been seven hours.

"What's the news?" she demanded.

Willow sighed. "It's not good..."

"Go on."

"She's nowhere on the map. Nowhere at all."

The blood drained from Faith's face, and her body went cold. "But that...that means she's..."

"No. No! No, I'd have felt...that the second it had happened. You would have too, I'm guessing."

Faith blew out a long sigh of relief. "Yeah, I shoulda remembered. The last time she...I felt it. So...what then? I don't get it."

"Me neither. It's kind of like, she's alive, but she doesn't exist."

"Do you think she's being cloaked like that Maggie chick was?"

"That's a possibility. I've got witches working the locator spell every half an hour though, so if she pops up, we'll know. And Giles has sent slayers out all over to look for her."

"Good, that's good."

"Faith...I'm so worried. Buffy would never run off like this, not now. So that must mean...it must mean she's in terrible trouble."

"It'll be okay, Will," Faith told her, even though she wasn't even sure she believed it herself. "It'll all be okay."

48 HOURS LATER

When she found him, Faith was going to kill him. This was the fourth time Dean had vanished within the past twelve hours, and she was getting pissed off having to look for him when she could be looking for Buffy. She spotted him, finally, beating on a vamp in a cemetery.

"Tell me where she is!" Dean screamed, punching the vampire so hard that he was knocked straight off of his feet.

"I don't know!" the vampire spat between broken fangs. "I don't even know who the hell you're talking about, you crazy asshole!"

Faith yanked Dean off of the vampire and staked the bloody mess that was the latter. "I like beating on the evil dead and all, but that was sick."

"Why'd you kill him? He was gonna tell me where Buffy is!"

"No, he wasn't-"

"How do you know?"

"Because he didn't know, Dean! And breaking your fist attacking him wasn't going to help! You have to stop going crazy, man! We need you, okay? We need sane Dean, not totally mental Dean who keeps disappearing on us! We've been looking for you for hours."

"Well you shouldn't have bothered! You should've been looking for Buffy!"

She sighed. "Let's just go meet Sam."

"Dean," Sam said later that evening, as they sat with Faith to choke down some food. "We need to talk."

Dean, grateful to have a reason to stop pushing his food around his plate, sat back and crossed his arms. "Make it quick."

Glancing at Sam, Faith stood up and began to pace. "We've been thinking...it's time we left this town."

His face quickly transitioned from annoyed to thunderous. "No!"

"She's not here any more, Dean! We've searched and we've searched, and then we searched a whole lot more. She's gone, get that? Wherever she is now, it's not here."

"It's not like we're about to stop searching for Buffy," Sam put in gently. "We just think it would be helpful to look in other places. Or maybe go back to Cleveland and see what we can do there."

"Are you both deaf or something? I said no! I'm not leaving her! What if she comes back and she's hurt and I'm not here?" His voice broke. "She'll be lost."

"I don't think she's coming back here. If we leave-"

Shaking his head, he stood up so quickly that his chair was knocked over, and stormed from the room.

Faith fell into her seat. "He can't go on like this. He'll end up killing himself."

"I've never seen him this crazy before," Sam added. "Even when Dad went missing he was in control about it. He's scaring me."

"I'm gonna go talk to him."

"Wait...maybe I should do it..."

"No, I've got it. The time for being gentle with him has passed. We've gotta be harsh if we're gonna get through to him, and I don't think you have it in you to do that to him right now."

Sam nodded ruefully, and Faith followed Dean outside. She caught up to him just as he was preparing to get into the Impala to search for Buffy again.

"Dean, just hold on and talk to me for a minute, would ya?"

His shoulders stiffened and he turned. "If you're about to start with that crap about leaving again-"

"It's not crap and you know it! Right now you're a mess and you're not thinking straight, otherwise you'd see that."

"Listen to me-"

"No, you listen! We have searched every street, cemetery, motel, every inch this town has to offer. And the area surrounding it. We've spoken to the police, the locals, and then we searched some more. She is not here! And when you stop acting crazy for just one second, you'll realize that!"

Frustrated, Dean swung around and kicked at his car. When he turned to Faith again, his eyes were red rimmed. "You and Sam obviously just don't care about her as much as-"

Faith punched him before he could even finish the sentence. "You think I don't care?" she cried. "Seriously? You asshole! I care! Dammit, I care! And before you say it, I know that this is all my fault! If it wasn't for me she'd be here, safe with us."

He stopped rubbing his sore cheek to stare at her in disbelief. "Wait, what? Faith, none of this is your-"

But Faith had finally cracked. "If I hadn't acted like such a bitch to Buffy, she never would have gone walking. She never would have been distracted. I've been totally selfish, and a hypocrite."

"What are you talking about?"

"You wanna know something? When Buffy was back in collage, I slept with her boyfriend. And back in high school I kissed another one of her boyfriends. I stabbed her in the back more times than I can count! And then when she actually fell in love with you, I jumped down her throat! So yeah, this is my fault. If I was a better friend, she'd be safe."

Dean shook his head, stepping closer to her. "Faith, don't do this. No way is this your fault!"

She didn't even seem to have heard him. She sniffed, and wiped a tear away angrily. "I didn't even mean any of that stuff I said, not really. Damn, I knew how perfect you two idiots were right from the beginning. But ever since I met her, Buffy always had it all – the perfect life, perfect friends, perfect family, perfect men. Everyone always wanted her more than me. And then you did too even though I met you first and it just made me so mad! So I went and acted like a stupid kid in a tantrum...and now she's gone."

"Faith...I love Buffy. And she loves me. But the last thing we ever wanted to do was hurt you, I promise."

She nodded. "I know. And the night I left – the night she went missing – I thought about it for hours and I realized I was being an ass. I was gonna apologize to both of you and tell you everything was cool. I was just psyching myself up to do it when Sam came and told me she was gone. If she just came home," she sobbed, openly crying now. "I could tell her."

He reached for her and pulled her into his arms. "Please don't cry," he begged.

She pulled away and looked up at him, her hands squeezing his shoulders. "We need to leave, Dean."

He dropped his head and sighed. "I know."


	34. Chapter 34

Kind of Different

Disclaimer – Don't own anything you might recognize, all belongs to its respective owners

Kind of Different

With no other lead and not a single idea about where Buffy could have disappeared to, Faith, Sam and Dean concluded that the most logical thing to do would be to head back to Cleveland.

It was a solemn audience that greeted them upon arrival. Unlike last time, she school wasn't buzzing with the activity of young girls. Instead it was quiet, glum. The girls were almost silent as they hastily made their way through the corridors, and there wasn't a single smile to be found.

"Oh good, you're here," announced a relieved voice.

They all turned as one to find Giles advancing on them.

Faith shrugged. "We didn't know where else to look, so..."

"I'm glad you're here. The students will be relieved to see you." He put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed, and then nodded in greeting at the Winchesters. "We're gathering in the library if you'd care to join us?"

They nodded, and followed him down the familiar passage. Upon entering the library, they discovered a whole bunch of faces that were new from the last time Sam and Dean had visited, along with some familiar ones.

"Faith!"

A wild haired Dawn separated herself from the gang gathered around the table to wrap her arms around Faith. Faith looked awkward at the interaction, and simply patted the younger girl on the head, embarrassedly.

"I'm so glad you're here," Dawn announced, letting go.

"Uh...yeah. Me too, kid. I didn't realize you'd be here, though."

"Well, Giles told me to stay in England 'cause there was nothing I could do here and he was all like 'concentrate on your studies and try not to worry' and I was like 'how the hell can I not worry when my sister is missing?'. You know?"

"Yeah, I know." She looked away from Dawn and peered about the room, exhaling in relief hen she saw the person she was looking for. "Hi, Robin."

He'd been stood back, as if afraid to approach her. But when she greeted him he stepped forwards, gripping her shoulder much like Giles had done. "Welcome back, Faith."

"You too."

She really was genuinely happy to see him. He was the only person in the world she'd ever have labelled a 'boyfriend'. Even when their relationship had come to an end, he'd still continued to be a sound and stabilizing influence in her life.

Gesturing towards Sam and Dean, she said, "You haven't met these guys, have you? Sam and Dean Winchester. They're hunters. Good ones."

Robin shook each of their hands in turn. "I've actually heard a lot about you." He shot a sneaky glance in Dawn's direction. "She rambles a lot."

Dawn poked him in the arm. "Do not." She turned to Sam and Dean. "Robin was head of Sunnydale High. Until it got all crater lovin'."

The library doors suddenly slammed open, and all turned to watch as two grumpy looking men walked in, each sporting what looked to be a red collar around their necks.

"Are these really necessary?" one of them asked, tugging at it.

"You could always take it off if you wanted, Spike," Willow piped up. "Of course, you'd turn into a bit dusty pile of ash the second you did, but that's your choice."

"I don't see why the spells in this place affect me anyway. I have a soul."

"You're still a demon."

"The last time I wore something 'round my neck, the town went boom. So excuse me if I'm a tad tetchy, right?"

"Shut up, Spike," his companion commanded with a long suffering sigh. He roved his eyes over the group, stopping when he spotted the man who had been sitting with Robin. "Gunn, when did you get here?"

"About a half an hour ago with Wood and Dawn." He stood up and moved over to slap him on the arm. "It's good to see you again, Angel. It's been a while."

"Yeah, too long."

Glancing quickly at Sam and Dean, Faith noticed that they were looking confused at the whole situation and very out of place. "Oh right, yeah. More intro's. So this guy's Charles Gunn. He's helping Robin out in England with Dawn. And these two idiots are Spike and Angel. They're vampires. Everyone, this is Dean and Sam-"

"Whoa whoa whoa!" Dean interrupted. "Back it up there a minute. Did you just say vampires?"

"Yeah. Oh, they're like, good vamps."

"Vampires as in stinkin' evil fiends who suck the blood of innocent people?"

"Hey!" Spike protested. "We're evil, not feelingless! That stings!"

Angel rolled his eyes at both of them. "We're not evil. We have souls."

"Vampires with souls?" Sam was immediately intrigued. "Are there a lot of you out there?"

"Nope. Just the two of us."

"Yeah, we're unique!" Spike added smugly.

Giles huffed frustratedly. "As fascinating as none of this is, we really should be getting down to business!"

Those standing up all took a seat around the table, feeling a lot like naughty school children.

"It's nice to see everyone again," David Chan addressed the table. "I only wish it could be under better circumstances." Everyone nodded, and he continued. "I've received reports back from all our slayers in the North area – there's been no sign. Winona did hear of a blonde woman being forced into a cab and followed the lead, but it wasn't Buffy."

Willow looked horrified. "Did she help the woman?"

"Of course."

Giles nodded sadly at the lack of information. "Willow, anything from your side of things?"

"I've tried every spell I can think of and nothing. Even the coven can't get a hint of her."

"We have the younger girls getting back to their lessons," Andrew added. When Faith looked at him questioningly he shrugged. "I passed my watcher's test. I was gonna surprise Buffy with it when she came home, but..."

"You still can," Kennedy spoke up, her expression uncharacteristically soft. "When we get her back."

Giles cleared his throat and rubbed his forehead, trying to get rid of the headache that seemed to have decided to take up permanent residence in his brain. "That's very good. Lessons will keep the girls occupied, and they need something to distract them right now. Which brings me onto my next topic of conversation..."

Vi put her hand up, looking embarrassed. "Are you talking about the slayer/watcher ball?" He nodded, and she took that as her sign to go on. "Okay, I booked the Gilving Hotel to hold it. It's big enough and only a couple of miles from here, so it's practically perfect. We did want to hold it here at the school, but the hall just isn't big enough for everyone so-"

"Slow down just a second, cowgirl!" Faith interrupted, holding up her hand. "Are you seriously wasting time here planning that stupid ball? When Buffy ismissing? What the hell?"

"Yeah!" Dean agreed. "I second that hell!"

Giles neatly folded his hands and laid them down on the table carefully, before peering over the top of his glasses at Faith. It was when he was at his calmest that Faith knew he was about to pop, so she sat back and prepared to let him speak.

"At this point in time, it is imperative that we make sure that the watchers and slayers know they are together, that they have to stick with each other. Buffy is a symbol to everyone, and with her gone and in possible danger, none of them are feeling all too safe. We're hoping that by continuing on with the preparations, the girls will feel stabilized and will realize that they aren't alone. We want to rebuild their confidence. I want to find Buffy as much as the rest of you, but we have to consider the girls as well."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Faith admitted. "Sorry, G."

"Why don't you take Buffy's room," Faith suggested to Dean, as they tiredly trudged into the apartment, hours later. "Sam'll have to take the couch...if that's cool?"

Sam nodded. "That's fine."

"Great. We can get something to eat and then maybe patrol or something. Or sleep. Whatever."

"Food sounds great."

They moved towards the kitchen where they found Dawn and Andrew, discussing the meeting.

"I just can't believe Spike is alive!" Dawn announced. "And that Willow and Giles knew about it! Buffy is gonna be so pissed that he didn't tell her when she gets home."

"If she gets home," Andrew mumbled sadly.

"When," Dean corrected sternly. "When she gets home. Don't you ever give up on her."

Andrew nodded bravely. "I'll try."

Glad to finally be alone, Dean locked himself away in Buffy's room later that night, tossing his bag to the floor and slowly spinning around, his eyes eagerly taking in every detail. It had an unused feel to it, but there was a definite hint of her scent in the air.

He stepped over to the dresser, opening and peering into her drawers unashamedly. One was filled with makeup and crap, another with underwear.

He frowned and pushed aside the underwear.

There was a stake hidden in there.

Buffy kept a stake hidden in her underwear drawer.

Dean stumbled backwards, falling down when his legs hit the edge of the bed. Suddenly, the last shred of control he had been clinging onto ever since Buffy had vanished shattered, and hot, embarrassing tears began to leak from his eyes. Not only that, but loud sobs escaped his throat. Sobs! He covered his mouth to muffle the sound, but had to remove it when the need to take it big, choking gasps of air became too much.

It took him a full three minutes to compose himself enough to stand and remove the stake from the drawer. He slipped it into his pocket, and glanced around her mirror to where she had tacked photographs of herself and her friends. Lots of Faith and Dawn and Andrew, and plenty more of the others from the school. His favourite was of her and Dawn with an older woman – their mother, he guessed, if the resemblance was anything to go by. Buffy looked so happy in the picture. So happy and young, with eyes filled with secrets. He plucked it down and moved back over to the bed.

He fell asleep that night with his nose buried in a pillow that smelled of Buffy's hair, a stake in his hand, and a picture laying next to hiss face.

The world was a different place without Buffy. Quiet, lonely, joyless.

Faith patrolled all night, every night, and hunted down vampire nests during the day. She was exhausted, unfocused and careless, but determined to kill every last demon she could get her hands on, no matter what anyone tried to say to get her to rest.

It had been Buffy's job before. Back when Faith was swanning off by herself and leaving her best friend alone. It had been Buffy's job. And now it was hers.

Andrew, on the other hand, simply drifted, looking sad and lost and lonely.

He even seemed to have lost the will to flirt with Dean.

"She was the best non-evil friend I ever had," he confided in Sam, when Sam had tried to comfort him.

Dawn researched.

And then she researched.

And then she researched and researched and researched.

She refused to eat and sleep. She wasn't even sure what she was looking for, but still she researched.

"Why don't you get some sleep, kid?" Faith suggested.

Everything about Dawn was dull when she responded. "I'm fine."

"Just a nap, or something to eat. You're wasting away here, and you know Buffy wouldn't want that."

"Really, I'm fine. I have to research...it's all I'm good at."

Damn. Faith had never been good at this touchy feely 'make you feel better' nonsense. That had always been Buffy's forte. Maybe she could go and get Sam...who was currently at the school. Double damn. "Hey, don't be like that," she said awkwardly. "You're good at other stuff too."

"Like what?"

"Um-"

Dawn spun around in her chair, a fierce look on her face. "I'm not a good fighter like Buffy is! Or a good leader like she is. Or any of the things that make her great. She's always taken care of me, even when I was being a totally selfish brat. I mean, she friggin' died for me! And I'd...I'd do the same if it meant getting her back."

Faith knelt down before her and gripped her knees. "You and me both know she's never want that. Ever! So don't even be saying things like that. And if you keep on going the way you're going, you're gonna end up seriously ill. And Buff would totally kick my ass if I let that happen. So get some sleep, otherwise I'm just gonna tie you to the bed and make you."

"Kinky."

"Now!"

They'd been back in Cleveland for three days when somebody buzzed the apartment.

"Who's there," Dawn asked with a sigh through the intercom.

"Dawn?" came a male voice. "Is that you? Buzz me up."

A long, loud squeal brought the rest of the apartment out of their various hiding places.

"What's going on?" Dean demanded. "Is that the alarm?"

"Lewis is here!" Dawn exclaimed, clapping her hands. "He's here, he's here, he's here!"

"Who the hell is Lewis?"

Before she could answer, there was a knock on the apartment door and she ran to open it, throwing herself into the arms of the breathless boy waiting on the other side.

"I know you told me not to come," he acknowledged in an Irish accent. "but I just had to. I couldn't let you go through all this alone."

"I'm not alone, doofus! But I am so, so glad you're here!"

"Seriously, who is this guy?" Dean questioned. "And when did drop into a teen romcom?"

Dawn pulled Lewis into the apartment and closed the door behind them. "Guys, this is Lewis."

"No kidding," Faith said dryly. "'Cause we totally didn't get that when you yelled it in our faces."

"Lewis, this is Faith and Andrew – I live with them here. And this is Buffy's boyfriend, Dean, and his brother, Sam. Guys, Lewis is my best friend. We met on campus."

"And he's here because...?"

"I came because I was going crazy back in England knowing that Dawn was over here probably going out of her mind worrying about her missing sister," Lewis answered helpfully. "I couldn't not come."

Dean instantly warmed up to the kid – who was quite blatantly in love with Dawn, although he'd hedge a bet that she was completely oblivious. And he'd flown half way across the world to be there for her. He had to respect that.

"Lewis knows about Buffy?" Faith asked suspiciously. "Just how much else does he know?"

Dawn looked bashful at this, and in that moment she looked so much like Buffy that Dean felt like his stomach had just dropped right out.

"Uh...pretty much everything. But it's cool! I promise. Robin Gunn totally checked him out and gave him the whole secrecy speech. He even patrolled once or twice."

Lewis nodded eagerly. "One time I almost got eaten by a vampire. It was all very exciting."

Faith shook her head. "Fine. But I'll be having words with Robin tomorrow about who he's letting in his little club. So you must be tired, huh? Long flight and all."

"Yeah. I came straight here from the airport. In my eagerness to get here I didn't even think about finding a place to stay..."

She shrugged. "Stay here. Everyone else is. You can sleep...uh..."

"In my room?" Dawn suggested.

Faith scoffed and folded her arms. "Yeah right. Like Buffy wouldn't stab me again if I said yes to that."

"God, dirty mind much? I didn't mean in actual bed with me! I meant on the floor! It's not like there's anywhere else he could crash. And besides, I'm not a kid. I do know how to be responsible, you know."

Lewis blushed, looking like he wished he could be anywhere else in the world. "I can find another-"

"Nah," Faith butted in. "Dawn's right. She's not a kid no more. Just do me a favour, yeah? If you're gonna do the dirty deed, make sure to wrap it up."

"Oh my God, Faith! You are so embarrassing! Like me and Lewis would ever do that! I mean, ew! We're just friends." She didn't seem to notice how Lewis' face dropped at her words, but Dean sure did. "Come on, Lewis. I'll get you some blankets."

"Hold up a sec," Dean stopped her. "Dawn, you go ahead and sort out those blankets. Me and Lewis are just gonna go have a little chat in the kitchen."

"A chat about what?"

"About food. Go."

"Whatever." And she ambled off, grumbling about always being told what to do.

Everybody else disbanded back to what they had been doing before the disturbance, and Lewis followed Dean into the kitchen, looking a little scared. "You know, I actually ate at the airport, so..."

"Why don't you take a seat, Leon," Dean suggested, injecting a hint of menace into his words.

"Actually, it's Lewis."

"Seat!"

"Okay," Lewis squeaked.

"So," Dean started, sitting opposite him. "How long have you been in love with Dawn?"

Lewis' eyes widened and his cheeks flushed. "What?"

Dean sighed and rubbed his forehead, his face softening. "Look, I really don't wanna be doing this Hannah Montanna moment any more than you do. Frankly, it's just embarrassing. For both of us. But Buffy's not here to watch out over Dawn so I'm gonna do it. How long?"

"A while." Lewis dropped his face into his hands.

"Right...okay. And you haven't told her because...?"

"Because she's crazy over some other guy. Obviously."

"Obviously." He nodded slowly. "Now that I think about it, I do remember her rambling on about some totally cute teeny bopper when she came to us at Christmas."

"Yeah, that'd be Bailey. Total idiot. I've no idea how he even landed a place in uni. They probably only let him in because he's pretty."

"Okay, first of all – drop the bitterness. It's ugly. Second – Dawn's a smart kid. She'll get over her little crush eventually and if this guy really is a douche, she'll realize it."

"And then you think she might fall for me?"

"Maybe, I don't know. I don't even know you. Or her, really. But if she does go and decide you're the one she wants to ramble about, you better be good to her, okay? Because if I find out you hurt her, I will hunt your ass down and feed it to a pack of hungry demons. Okay?"

"I'd never hurt her. Ever."

"Well good. 'Cause seriously, there'd be maiming involved."

"You're quite a scary man, you know that?"

"You should meet Buffy. Makes me look like a kitten."

Sam glanced down at his watch.

3 am.

3 am and he still couldn't sleep, just like every other night since he'd arrived back in Cleveland. No wonder the bags under his eyes were practically black as midnight.

He pursed his lips together as an annoying tear slipped from his eye.

"Sam?"

He jumped at the sound of his brother's voice, and hastily wiped the tear away. He hadn't even heard Dean leave Buffy's room. Composing his face, he turned to Dean as he sat down in the armchair next to the couch. "What's up?"

Dean peered at Sam. "Have you been crying?

"No!" he protested harshly. He noticed that Dean's own eyes were rimmed with red. "Have you?"

"No."

They sat in companionable silence for a while, and Sam tried to pretend that Dean wasn't observing him.

"What?" he asked finally.

Dean shrugged. "Nothing. I was just thinking...you love her too, don't you?"

"Buffy?"

"Yeah."

Sam nodded. "Yeah, I do. I mean, not like you do. I love her like...like a sister."

"But you had a little crush on her in the beginning though, dintcha?" Dean teased.

It was so good to see Dean doing something so carefree as teasing that Sam couldn't help but smile. "Maybe."

"Ha! I so knew it."

"Come on, man! She's sexy as hell and can kick some serious ass! What man wouldn't?"

"True, true."

Sam's smile slowly faded and he looked at Dean with serious eyes. "We're gonna find her, you know that, right?"

"I know. I know because he have to find her. She's my future, little bro. She's everything."

Sam had never seen his brother so open, so vulnerable. What was it about her that made him this way? What was it about her that made people different...better? He wished he could fix this. "Why don't we try calling Dad? He could help."

"No, I don't wanna call Dad. Besides, he probably wouldn't pick up even if we did."

Dean let himself back into Buffy's room just under and hour later. He and Sam had talked some more and, crazy as it was, he thought he might actually be able to get some sleep now.

Before he climbed back into bed, he fished his cellphone out of his pocket and hit speed dial. He wasn't surprised when it went straight to answer-phone.

"Hey, Dad. I know I've left you at least a dozen messages these past few days, but...I really need you right now..."

Things were no better at the school than they were at the apartment.

Giles walked the halls, as mechanical as a robot. When people talked, he barely listened.

At least last time when Buffy had been dead, he had known. And now, it was the not knowing that was killing him.

When Willow tried to talk to him, all he would say was that he'd succeeded in failing Buffy once again, and there was nothing anyone could say or do to persuade him otherwise.

When she wasn't trying to help Giles through his funky issues, Willow was exhausting herself casting every spell she could get her head around – minus the crazy, black eyed turning variety.

Kennedy had tried and failed to get her to stop and rest many a time, and had later taken on the 'if you can't beat 'em, join 'em' approach. If she was being totally honest, it was only thirty percent about trying to find Buffy, and seventy percent about making sure that Willow had somebody to lean on.

Xander was taking an entirely different approach.

Instead of finding ways to aid the rest of the group in getting Buffy back, he was busying himself by building her a special training room for when she did get back.

Dean watched him hammer furiously, a look of denial hidden in his eyes. He didn't like that look. It was the look of somebody who had given up hope, but was refusing to acknowledge that he had.

"We lost her once before," Xander spoke up, feeling eyes upon him.

"When she died?"

"Yeah...when she died." He stopped hammering and took a long glug from his bottle of water, before offering it to Dean. "We couldn't cope without her then. And I'm not saying we couldn't now – a lot's changed since then. But...we just don't want to. Giles is right. She's a symbol. When people who know her think about her, they think of hope, and freedom, and strength. She's amazing."

He picked the hammer back up and got back down to work. Nodding, Dean joined him.

"Dude, seriously! Stop staring at me," Dean demanded, fed up of the mean glares Angel kept shooting his way. "I know I'm pretty, but..."

The two of them and Spike and Giles were riding out of town to meet up with a contact of Giles'. Giles had warned them that it would probably be a waste of time, but at this point, they were grasping at straws.

"Buffy's scent is all over you," Angel replied by way of explanation.

Spike rolled his eyes. "No kidding. He's staying in her apartment. Idiot."

"Okay, creepy stalker, why are you sniffing me?" Dean took his eyes off the road to peer at Angel in disgust.

"Angelcakes is all jealous," Spike told him.

In the passenger seat, Giles softly banged his head against the window, wondering for the nineteenth time why he hadn't just driven by himself.

"You're so immature, Spike." Angel huffed and folded his arms. "And like you're not jealous."

"Maybe a little," Spike admitted, shrugging. "But the overriding emotion here is happiness that Buffy has finally found a decent human – and by human I don't mean a big army boy pillock – to love, and one who loves her back." And under his breath he added, "Immature my arse."

"Man, I gotta tell you – never thought I'd be sitting in some bar sharing beers with a vamp," Dean mused out loud, later that night.

"And I never thought I'd meet a boyfriend of Buffy's I didn't want to decapitate," Spike responded. "So there you go."

They both smirked and clinked bottles.

"Cheers."


	35. Chapter 35

On the Night of the Ball

On the Night of the Ball

"Son of a stinkin' bitch!" Dean cursed loudly, yanking off the tie that was giving him so much trouble and tossing it to the floor. He wished it had been heavy enough to make a satisfying crash. Instead it landed silently, and then just lay there, mocking him.

God, he hated those things.

And he hated wearing suits. He would have gone to the slayer/watcher ball in a t-shirt and jeans if he hadn't been scolded by Willow, who was surprisingly scary for such a little person.

He didn't even see why he had to go anyway. He wasn't a slayer or a watcher. He wasn't even a teacher, really. So he'd helped out with a couple of classes. Didn't mean he was looking to don a pair of elbow patches and spec it up like Giles.

But Giles was all with the 'you and Sam have become respected figures amongst the students in the weeks that you've been here' and Sam had to go and get all flattered and then Dean could hardly say no.

Still, sucked balls.

"What's all the swearyness about, sweary boy?" Dawn chirped, peering her head around Buffy's bedroom door. She glanced from his sulky face to the evil tie and smiled in understanding. "Ah." She entered the room and picked up the tie. "Get over here, dummy."

"Stupid thing," he muttered, as she fixed it around his neck.

She rolled her eyes. "Stop being a baby. There...all done. You clean up nice."

Dean huffed. "Yeah, 'spose you don't look so bad yourself."

"Too right." Her dress was sky blue and puffy and glittery and she felt like a total princess. "But you should see Faith. She's a babe. Sam can't keep his horny eyes off her."

"No way?" Well, well, well. Interesting.

"Way," Dawn confirmed. "He's following her around and leaving a trail of drool wherever he goes. Totally gross."

Dawn, as usual, had been right. Faith looked positively stunning. She was floating around the ballroom in some silvery, silky looking thing, and Sam was following after her so closely that Dean almost believed she had him on an invisible leash.

He watched the two of them dance from his seat by the bar, wondering whether there was something there between them. Talk about oddest couple of the century award. But...he kinda hoped there was. They could be great.

This whole ball thing ain't too shabby, he decided. The food had been pretty darned good, and there was a whole bunch of free booze for those old enough. And more than that, people were actually smiling for the first time in weeks. He'd almost forgotten what that looked like.

There was just one thing missing. One person...

Actually, the company kinda sucked. All the people Dean wanted to to talk to were dancing. He almost wished Spike were still here, but he and Angel had headed back to LA to meet with contacts.

"Yo."

He glanced sideways. Willow had just sat down next to him, and was shooting him a sympathetic smile. She looked pretty. Her dark grey frock clung to her, and she wore it well. "Hey."

"Whatcha doin' sitting here all by yourself?"

"I'm not really in the dancing mood."

She took in his ruffled hair, and the bulging pocket stuffed full of the tie he had taken off over an hour ago. "Thinking about Buffy?"

"Always."

"Why don't you let me get you a drink?"

"No, it's on me."

"Thank you. Although it's a free bar so I don't really know why we quibbled."

He chuckled and signalled for the bartender to bring him another two drinks.

Willow peered down at the glass of neat whiskey ominously.

"You don't have to drink that if you don't want to," Dean said, sounding amused.

"It's okay, I drink whiskey all the time," she lied, taking a cautious sip. The coughing fit that followed gave away her lie. "Maybe I should just stick to white wine spritzers."

Dean was just about to order her one when the ballroom doors were slammed open suddenly. The room fell silent in surprise. People stopped dancing, the band stopped playing, the bar-staff stopped pouring.

A woman appeared through the door, small and blonde with a grin that stretched right across her face. She slid her hands over her slinky, striped dress before stepping forwards. She stopped at the top of the stairs.

Sam and Faith pulled away from each other and looked up at her in surprise. "Meg?"

Willow gripped Dean's arm tightly. "She's a demon," she hissed. And then realizing the rest of the room needed to know, she repeated it louder.

Slayers began to surge forwards, but Meg held up a hand and formed an invisible barrier. "Now, now. Let's not be hasty." She glanced over at Willow. "I know how powerful you are, witch, but you'll find it'll take even you a good few minutes to get through my wall, so you may as well listen to what I have to say."

"Damn, I knew there was something off about her!" Faith shot Sam a smug glare.

"Totally not the time, Faith," he hissed back out of the corner of his mouth.

Beside him, Dean felt Willow twitch. "Don't," he murmured. "Not yet. She might know something about Buffy. This could be the lead we've been looking for."

She clenched her fists. "Fine."

"How did you even get in here?" Giles demanded. "The place has been blanketed with protection spells against the very likes of you."

Meg smirked. "Guess I found a flaw in your little spells, teach. I got a whole load of slayer blood running through my veins right now – so I guess your little spells think I'm a slayer."

Giles jerked forwards in anger, but was held back by Xander. "Who did you take it from?"

"Chill! Trust me, I didn't take anything that wasn't given willingly."

"And what do you mean by that?"

"Well if you'd stop questioning me for just a minute, I could tell you! Jeez, can't a girl get a break around here?I am here to introduce you guys to my new best friend." Her voice got deeper and louder as she took on the tone of a commentator. "She's blonde, she's gorgeous, she's the belle of the ball, the one you've all been waiting for..." She spread her arms out dramatically. "She's Buffyyyyy!"

A hushed silence fell over the room as two new figures appeared in the doorway behind Meg.

Buffy, on the arm of a man with black eyes.

She looked radiant in a dress the colour of deep sunset. Beautiful, untouchable.

"Buffy," Dean breathed. He was out of his seat and half way across the room before anybody else had a chance to move. He stopped when he came to the barrier, and put his hand up against it.

The harsh, cold sound of Buffy's laughter sent shivers running down his spine.

She pulled away from her demon companion and the two of them stepped up next to Meg. "That's the one I was telling you about," she began. "Pathetic, right?"

"Positively puke worthy," Meg agreed.

Dean felt as if somebody had kicked him in the heart. "Buffy...what's going on?"

She sighed and folded her arms. "And so dumb, too. No wonder Daddy Winchester preferred little bro."

"You're not Buffy."

"Oh, honey pie. Yes, I am."

"Reveal," Willow murmured.

Just like Willow had suspected, Buffy's eyes turned black, eliciting gasps from all over the room.

"But I thought slayers couldn't get possessed," Andrew whispered fearfully.

Looking giddy with excitement, Meg clapped her hands. "This is fun! We should do the big reveal thing more often."

"You know, our father really wanted to be here," Buffy addressed the room. "But he was afraid he wouldn't be welcome."

"You bet your ass he wouldn't," called a gravelly voice from behind her.

Genuinely surprised, Buffy, Meg and the male demon all turned as one.

"Dad!" both Sam and Dean gasped. And then, "Bobby?"

"Uh oh," Meg sang. "Daddy's home!"

John pointed his shotgun at her. "Where's your daddy?"

"All in good time, Johnny boy, all in good time." She turned to Buffy. "I think it just got a little crowded in here."

"I agree. Perhaps it's time we left. For now."

Bobby raised his own gun. "You sons of bitches ain't going nowhere."

Meg rolled her eyes. "Cute." She flicked her fingers, sending him and John flying in opposite directions. Both of them hit walls and slid down to the floor.

Turning quickly, Buffy searched the crowd until her eyes found Sam. "We'll be seeing you very soon, Sammy. You're the only one left to join the family."

And then they strolled right out of the door.

John picked himself up and grabbed his gun, chasing after them out the door.

But less than a minute later he was back, looking disappointed. "They're gone."


	36. Chapter 36

Prophecy Kids

Prophecy Kids

As soon as the invisible barrier holding back the slayers vanished, the room erupted into chaos. Panicked at seeing one of their leaders act so evilly, the girls ignored their watcher's instructions and surged forwards, each of them determined to be the one to catch the demons.

Of course, none of them did. Buffy, Meg and their male demon companion were long gone.

It wasn't until much, much later that night that the Winchesters and the others from the school managed to gather together to discuss what had happened.

"I got all your messages," John told Dean, after he and Bobby had introduced themselves to the group. "I'm just sorry as hell that I didn't get a chance to be here before now."

"Where have you been, Dad?" Sam demanded. "We've been searching for you for months!"

"I've been hunting the demon," John explained. "But we'll discuss it further later. Right now we have more important things to talk about."

For once, Sam actually agreed with his father.

Though she'd never admit it, Faith's heart was still beating furiously from the confrontation with Buffy earlier. It wasn't that she was scared, it was just she was...damn terrified. "Okay, I'm confused." To her credit, her voice was even and steady. "I thought slayers couldn't get possessed."

"Yeah, what's with that?" asked Kennedy. "Does this mean any one of us could get possessed? And I should tell you, I'm not the only slayer worrying about this right now? The girls are freaked."

Giles looked flummoxed by the whole situation. "I don't...I don't understand it myself. I truly don't know what to say..."

"I think I do," Willow spoke up, her voice low. "Because I know exactly what's going on." She looked grim.

"What is it?"

"Well...she's not possessed."

The room buzzed at the revelation.

"Then why were her eyes black?" Dean questioned. "That's a pretty big 'I'm a demon' sign. And why did she say those things? Buffy would never have said anything like that."

Others around the table nodded in agreement, and Willow closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. When she looked up at them all again, she seemed older.

"When Giles told us that slayers are immune from being possessed, he was right."

"Uh, Will..." Xander spoke up for everyone. "Are you sure? Because I'm thinking that girl back there – not Buffy. Buffy's never been that bitchy, or with the black eye having."

"I know, I know. It's just...hard to explain." Willow was sounding very tired, and exasperated. "Buffy isn't possessed, but she is a demon." She shook her head. No, that's not the right way to say it. She isn't a demon, really, she's just...she's the slayer. Completely. If there's any human left in there, it's trapped somewhere deep, deep down."

"She's trapped?" Dean asked, pained. "So she's still in there?"

"Maybe. I think so."

He scratched his head with a shaking hand. "Is she...is she in pain?"

She looked down at her hands. "I wish I could lie to you..."

Dean gripped the edge of the table so hard his knuckles turned white. "But...none of this makes any sense. If she really is the full on slayer, wouldn't she be out there slaying things? Not hanging out with a bunch of demons."

"I think somebody may be controlling her."

"Who could control a slayer?"

"Hatoss," Giles mumbled. "Of course! He was going to use the amulet to control Buffy."

"But he's dead," Sam pointed out. "Buffy beheaded him. And then we burnt the body. You don't think he's back?"

"No, no. Like you said, he's dead. I don't think it's him."

"Then who could it be?"

"I can't imagine."

"Be Buffy destroyed the amulet," Dean announced. "She smashed it up with that magic axe thing. So whoever it is can't be using it to control her."

"Maybe just smashing it up wasn't enough," Willow suggested. "Nobody ever went back for the pieces. It's possible they could have found some way to use the remains."

"So all we know now is that Buffy is still in there – probably in pain – and the slayer part of her is being controlled by someone. But we have no idea who, or where to find them, or how to stop them. This is freakin' dandy."

"You do know who it is, Dean," John spoke up. "It's the same demon we've been hunting nearly all your life."

Sam blinked. "The demon that killed Mom?"

"I believe so."

Giles, who had been told the story by Sam, nodded. "And what has led you to believe this may be so?"

John shrugged. "Tortured a couple of demons."

"Do you know where we can find him?" Kennedy asked the obvious question. "'Cause I'm seriously feeling the need to kick some ass."

"No. As far as I can tell, he goes to his demons, not the other way around. None of them know how to find him themselves. But I know that if we stay put, we have a good chance of getting him to come to us. I'm pretty sure I know what he's after."

Faith frowned. "And what's that?"

She didn't miss the way his eyes flickered to Sam. "I'd rather not say until I'm one hundred percent sure."

"Fine." She turned to Willow. "We know what's up with Buffy, so now we can fix her, right? You can do some kind of a spell or something? Brew up a witchey potion?"

Willow looked like she wanted to cry. "I'm not sure there is a way to save her. Maybe if we could get our hands on the amulet, but that's gone..."

"No!" Dean protested. "There has to be something."

"Why don'tcha tell them what else we know," Bobby suggested out of the corner of his mouth to John.

John nodded. "There's a prophecy. I haven't read it myself, so I don't know what it says. But I think it might have something to do with the demon we're looking for. And maybe Buffy, and...and Sam."

Both Sam and Dean's heads shot up. "What?"

"What does it have do with me?" Sam demanded.

"I don't know, not yet. That's why I need to get my hands on the prophecy."

"Well, where is it?" Kennedy wanted to know.

John glanced over at Giles. "Right here."

Giles looked confused. "You think we have it?"

"Yes, I do. It'll be a very old script. Most likely in a language you can't figure out."

"The prophecy Willow and I have been working on," Giles commented, nodding slowly. "But we've been trying to figure out how to translate the language for months now. We have nothing. Less than nothing, actually."

John smiled. "I know just the person who can help."

"I hope you appreciate my coming all this way, John Winchester!" Missouri emphasized as she ambled into the room. She handed him her bag and folded her arms. "It's not easy travelling with these knees of mine, I'll have you know."

"Of course I appreciate it," he assured her with a smile. "We all do."

"Hmm. Well, you better show me this prophecy, boy. And I'll need a nice, quiet room to go with it."

John and Giles showed her into Giles' office.

"Who's the broad?" Faith asked to the general audience left behind. "And what's she doing?"

"Missouri's a psychic," Bobby filled in. "And a damned good one at that. She and John have known each other a damn long time. He thinks she might be able to channel whoever the hell it was who wrote that prophecy."

Willow sighed. "Let's just hope it works."

Missouri didn't leave Giles' office for half a dozen hours. When she did, she looked visibly exhausted.

"Well?" John demanded.

Missouri glared over at him. "Don't you take that tone with me. You ain't getting nothing until someone makes me a hot cup of tea."

After being nudged by Faith, Giles stuttered and up to get her just that. She smiled gratefully at him and sat down with the others.

"Did you manage to translate the text?" Giles asked, a lot more kindly than John had done, as he set the cup of tea down in front of her.

"Yes, honey, I did." She looked grim. "Not exactly word for word, mind. But I got enough to know what I'm talking about."

"And..."

"And it was written that a man of pure evil – your demon, John – would pick a son and a daughter. His daughter would be the warrior and creator-"

"I take it we are to assume that Buffy is the 'daughter'," Giles predicted.

"In the books I've read slayers are often referred to as warriors," related Sam. "And Buffy created all those other slayers, right? So it's probably her. But what about the son?" He had a very bad feeling in his stomach, which was getting worse and worse each time John and Bobby watched him with an odd expression out of the corner of their eyes.

Missouri shrugged. "All it says about him is that he will be the youngest son."

Relaxing, Sam sat back in his seat. "Well that could be hundreds of guys. Thousands."

"It means you, son," John said, looking sad.

"How do you know that?"

He and Bobby shared a glance. "We didn't, at first. Or we weren't sure, at least. But do you remember what Buffy said to you back in the ballroom."

Turning quickly, Buffy searched the crowd until her eyes found Sam. "We'll be seeing you very soon, Sammy. You're the only one left to join the family."

"You're the only one left to join the family..." Sam felt his stomach clench. "The demon chose me. What else did the prophecy say? There must be something else."

"It said that with his two children ruling by his side, he will bring about a new age for demons."

Andrew gulped. "Oh crap."

"Wait," Missouri said, holding up her hand. "That's not all. There's still hope."

"There is?" Sam looked doubtful.

She nodded. "There was one last thing written, about the one who loves them the most. Only he can save them, by giving the daughter the gift that he was destined to give her."

A long silence took over the room.

"So who's the one that loves them the most?" Faith asked eventually. "It's a he, yeah? You said he?"

"It's me," spoke up Dean. "I'm the one that loves them the most."

"Yeah, that makes sense."

"But I don't get it. I'm supposed to, what? Give her a gift? So I just go buy her flowers and this is all over?"

Missouri rolled her eyes at his ignorance. "I don't that's what it meant by gift."

"Then what does it mean?"

"Hell, I don't know, sonny. That's just something you're gonna have to figure out all by yourself."

Dean rubbed his hands over his face. His head felt like it was about to explode into a thousand tiny pieces. "I have to get outta here."

No one tried to stop him as he left the room.

Dean found himself in the school gardens, just walking. They were large, so he was able to walk and walk without having to think about where he was going.

He finally came to a stop near the far wall.

"Son of a bitch!" he roared, with a punch to the bricks.

He welcomed the pain it brought. It felt good to lose control.

This wasn't how it was supposed to happen! They were supposed to find the answers and solve the problem. Things were supposed to have been better once they knew.

Because not knowing what had happened to her had been bad.

But knowing – knowing that she was trapped somewhere, somewhere dark, in pain, and maybe stuck there forever – that was worse. Death would be kinder.

"I'm sorry about your girl," came a rough voice from behind him.

Dean turned, unsurprised to see his father. He'd half expected him to follow. What did surprise him, was that he truly did look sorry. Sometimes he forgot that John was just as human as the rest of them.

"She was supposed to make everything better for me," Dean admitted, leaning back against the wall.

John moved to lean next to him, managing to appear only mildly uncomfortable with the conversation. "How so?"

"I sacrificed everything in my life for the job, to be a good soldier. Everything. And I thought maybe she came along because she was my reward. Because, she made everything hurt less. Vengeance just didn't seem as vital as it used to, not when she was around. Living life seemed the most important thing. I mean, I want to kill the demon as much as you do, I really do, but I'd decided that I wasn't going to let it rule my life any more. I was gonna find you and tell you that. And then I was gonna ask Buffy to marry me. Is that a surprise?"

"You mean coming from you, of all people?" John shook his head. "Maybe it would have been once. But Missouri told me how much you care about the girl."

"Are you annoyed then? That I'd want to give up the hunt?"

"More proud. You've grown up a lot this past year. I'm sorry I missed it."

Dean could barely conceal his shock. He shook his head and continued. "I thought maybe me and her could get a house or something. Probably have to get a job, too. And I'd take her on honeymoon somewhere in Europe, somewhere hot. Or maybe skiing. She told me she'd always wanted to try it and spending two weeks alone with her in a cabin doesn't sound too much like hard work. And then we'd come back and I'd fill her up with bratty kids." He huffed out a sigh. "God, that kind of apple pie life always made me sick before. But I don't think it'd be so boring with her."

"Could you just give up the life like that?"

"No, of course not. We'd just help people. Neither of us are the kinda people who could ever just stop." He moved away from the wall and brushed off his jeans. "But it was just a dumb dream. I should have known it could never happen. People like us don't get lives like that."

"I wish we could," John said. "I wish you could. That's all I've ever wanted for you and Sam. But you're right. People like us..."

"It'll never happen?" Dean wasn't even sure why he posed it as a question. He already knew the answer. Hearing it out loud would just suck.

"I'm sorry," John spoke. "But we can still save Buffy."

For one stupid, heartsick moment, Dean really thought his father meant that they could save her. That they could bring her home. But one look at John's face was enough to bring his world crashing down. "You mean by killing her?"

John hesitated. "Yes."

"How could you even say that-"

"Because you know that's what she would want! She's a warrior, just like you. If it were you trapped inside that body, with absolutely no control over the evil you were causing, wouldn't you feel the same?"

"I hate that you're right."

"I know. Now get back inside. We have a job to do."

"Yes, sir."

An hour or so later, Dean found a sulking Sam sitting in the stacks in the library, a bored looking slayer next to him."

Dean lifted an eyebrow. "Made a new friend?"

"According to Dad, I'm not allowed to be alone at any point," Sam said with a huff. "Everyone else is busy, so Giles told Isa to stay with me."

"And I'm like, real happy about it," Isa stated, the sarcasm evident in her voice.

Sam rolled his eyes. "We've been having so much fun."

"Whatev. Can I go now?" she barked. "You're brother's here to look after you now. So I can go, right?"

Sam folded his arms and pouted. "Don't need looking after."

She glared at him, and he sighed.

"Fine. Go."

If Dean hadn't of been so emotionally drained, he might have chuckled. Instead, he sat down in the spot next to Sam that Isa had just vacated. "It's not such a bad idea, you know," he consoled his brother. "If the demon is coming after you, you don't wanna be stuck on your own."

"I know, I know. It's just, Dad's been back like five minutes and I already feel like a little kid."

"I swear to God, if you two start bickering again-"

"We won't, don't worry." He sighed and checked his watch. "Come on, the others are starting to gather back. We're supposed to be having another meeting to brainstorm ideas."

"Ideas for what?"

"Plans for extra protection and finding Buffy."

"Did Willow fix her protection spell."

"Yeah, they won't be able to get back in.

They sat in silence for a moment longer.

"Dean, are you okay?"

"No," he answered bluntly. "No, I'm not. I feel...I feel...I feel like I wish I didn't feel anything at all. Because feeling hurts too damned much."

Sam had no words to reply.


	37. Chapter 37

Quicker Than Ever

Quicker Than Ever

"Mr Winchester."

Dean groaned quietly. Perhaps he could pretend he hadn't heard. He continued walking down the school corridor without so much as slowing down.

"Mr Winchester!" Louder this time, and impossible to pretend to ignore. "Entschuldigung*, Mr Winchester!"

Sighing, he stopped and slowly turned around. "Hi, Janica."

Tall, blonde Janica was an Austrian slayer who had only been with the school for a month. About a week ago she had decided that she was madly in love with Dean, and she'd been finding excuses to catch up with him at least a half a dozen times a day. He wouldn't have minded so much if she hadn't been only seventeen, and he hadn't been completely in love with a demon slayer. As it was, it was getting very annoying.

"Guten morgen**," she replied bashfully. She knew perfectly well how to speak English, but often went back to her native language when shy.

After she had stood there almost a whole minute, just staring at him, Dean began to feel quite uncomfortable. "So did you need something?"

"No. All I wanted was to say hello." She waved cheerfully. "Hello!"

"Right," he acknowledged, slowly. "Okay, kid. Get back to class. Seriously."

"Okay! Tschuss!***"

Yeah, she was kind of annoying.

Finally, some peace and quiet! It was crazy that Dean had to patrol in a cemetery just to get some time alone. All he'd had for a week solid were orders from his father or bitching from Sam or question after endless question from curious and admiring slayers.

And what was that even about? How and when had he become this authoritative figure to these kids? They actually listened when he told them to do something!

He felt so old.

"Mr Winchester!"

Holy mothering Jesus!

He paused mid-step. "Janica, if I turn around and find out that you really are standing behind me then I am going to be seriously cranky."

"Oh...shall I hide?"

He sighed and turned to find, for the seventh time that day, Janica standing there, watching him. When she caught a look at his face, she took a timid step back, even though they both knew she could knock him down with her pinky.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"Miss Lehane brought a group of us out to patrol. One of the other girls mentioned that you were also out here tonight. I sneaked away to find you."

"You sneaked away? Jeez, kid! With everything that's going on right now! Do you know how irresponsible that is?"

"I just wanted to say hello."

"Well now you've said it. Come on, I'm taking you back to Faith. And if she tries to give you a good ass kicking, I'm not gonna try to stop her, you hear me?"

"Dean..."

He stopped moving and squeezed his eyes shut tight. That voice had sounded just like...

"Buffy," he breathed, turning around and opening his eyes.

She looked bad. Pale, weak. Her clothes were ripped and her hair was knotted.

"Help me," she pleaded. "I broke free of the spell and escaped. I need help."

He didn't think about the fact that she had managed to end up here, at this particular graveyard where he had just happened to be hunting. He didn't think about how impossible it would be for her to have escape the demons, especially as weak as she seemed. He didn't think about anything.

"Mr Winchester." Janica grasped his arm to stop him moving towards Buffy. "Something doesn't feel right..."

But this was Buffy. His Buffy. And there was no one on earth who could stop him from going to her, especially when she was calling for him, weakly. He brushed Janica's hand away and went to her.

"Be careful," Janica warned.

But he ignored her. "Buffy," he choked out, pulling her into his arms. "I was so worried about you." He kissed her cheeks, her forehead, her lips. "How did you get away?"

When she didn't answer him, he looked down at her face.

She was smiling, wickedly.

He'd been played.

He shoved her away from him, feeling sick to his stomach as she began to laugh. "You can come out now, sister," she called over her shoulder.

A happy looking Meg sauntered out from behind a large tombstone. "Hello, darlings."

His heart beating furiously, Dean slowly backed away from the pair. "Janica, stay back."

"I think we should leave now," she replied with a shaking voice. It was the first time she'd ever encountered a non-vampire type of demon. "Mr Winchester, let's leave now. Bitte****."

Meg rolled her eyes and waved a hand.

Dean heard a sick snap, and turned just in time to see Janica drop the floor, dead. From the angle of her head, it was clear that her neck was broken. He twirled back to face Meg, fury burning in his eyes. With no thought in his mind other than inflicting pain, he rushed towards her, but was stopped by Buffy, who casually stepped in between them. With one hand, she lifted him up by the front of his jacket and tossed him unceremoniously to one side. He hit a gravestone, hard, and was powerless to do anything but lay there, dazed.

With a bored sigh, she moved towards him to finish him off, but was blocked by an angry whirlwind of dark hair.

"Can't let you do that, B," Faith announced.

"Get out of my way, F."

Instead of answering, Faith punched her, right in the face. But Buffy's head barely even turned. She punched back, sending Faith flying towards the ground.

Spitting out a mouthful of blood, Faith ground her teeth and climbed back up. "Knock me down, B, and I'll always get back up. You should know that by now."

Buffy cocked a patronizing eyebrow. "You wanna fight me? Seriously? You do know I can totally wipe the floor with you, right?"

"I don't want to fight you. But I will."

"Honey pie, if you don't want to fight me, get out of my way. Me and you can go at it another time."

"Get out of your way so you can kill Dean? Kinda can't do that. Because you're gonna want him when we get you back."

"I'm right here. And I don't want him."

"I'm not gonna let you hurt him."

"Fine." Buffy let out an annoyed huff. "Then I'll just have to settle for hurting you."

They flew at each other, and Faith gave it everything she had. But she couldn't even touch Buffy. She was quicker, stronger, and more skilled than she had ever been. No matter what Faith threw at her, she threw it right back, at double the strength.

Buffy didn't even break out into a sweat.

"Buffy, honey, this is getting boring," called out Meg.

"You're right," she agreed, kicking Faith's feet out from under her. "You know," she said, looking down. "I'm really not supposed to kill you just yet. There's this whole big thing. A time and a place, you get the drift. But you've annoyed me tonight so-"

"Miss Summers," came a timid sounding voice. "Step away from Miss Lehane. Now."

She stopped and looked up. She chuckled at the sight of a dozen, scared looking slayers, surrounding herself and Meg, Faith and Dean, all wielding swords or crossbows.

"Oh no, this is so scary," she called out sarcastically. "Meg, aren't you just terrified?"

"I'm trying to contain my horror." Meg folded her arms impatiently. "There's quite a lot of them, though. Breaking them into pieces would be easy enough, but so time consuming."

"Good point." Buffy nodded. "Father wouldn't be happy if we were late."

"You're not leaving just yet," Dean exclaimed, pulling himself up with a cough. He slipped out his gun and aimed it at Meg.

She snorted. "Come on now, Deanybear. You know that's not gonna-"

He shot.

"-work."

"No. But it sure as hell made me feel better."

"You idiot, you ruined my shirt! You're gonna pay for that. Real soon."

Buffy looked down at Faith. "Until next time, sweetheart."

Faith blinked, and when she opened her eyes, Buffy and Meg were gone.

The school hospital was quiet as Nurse Phoebe patched up Dean and Faith. The others listened glumly as they relayed what had taken place.

"We've lost her, haven't we?" Faith spoke up, her face in her hands.

Giles looked up at the ceiling, unable to meet anyone's eye. "I fear that may be so."

"What?" Dean slipped down off the bed and faced them all. "What the hell are you talking about? We haven'tlost her! Nothing's changed. We can still get her back. We just have to figure out how."

"But...didn't she kill Janica?" asked Andrew, biting his lip.

"She didn't kill her, Meg did."

"She was a part of it," John said, quietly.

He shook his head. "No. I'll save her. And damn all of you if you give up on her now."

"We're not gonna give up on her," Sam promised him. He gripped his shoulder tightly. "I promise."


	38. Chapter 38

Devil's Trap

AN – This chapter was inspired from a mixture of the Supernatural episodes 'Dead Man's Blood' and 'Devil's Trap'.

Devil's Trap

Dean sighed and rolled his eyes, only just managing to refrain from banging his head against the table as his father and Sam bickered over the most effective way to make bullets. He knew they were pleased to be around one another again, but they were just as freakin' stubborn as each other.

Jackasses.

He silently cheered with relief when Bobby entered the room, carrying an open laptop.

"You need to take a look at this," he advised John, looking grim.

Raising an enquiring eyebrow, John took the laptop off of him without a word. The longer he read what was on the screen, the more his face began to drop. Once finished, he sighed and rubbed a hand over his face.

"What? What is it?" Dean asked.

When John didn't immediately answer, Sam slid the laptop across the table to take a look for himself. "A local man in Colorado by the name of Daniel Elkins has been found dead, maimed in his own home," he summed up out loud for Dean. "Looks like the police are out of ideas. At first they thought it was a bear attack, but now they've found signs of robbery."

Dean's eyebrows knitted together. "Daniel Elkins...I've heard that name before, I'm sure of it."

"You probably read it in my journal," John commented, finally looking up.

"So who was he?"

"A hunter. And a damned good one at that. He taught me a hell of a lot. I probably wouldn't be alive today if it wasn't for him. He was a good man."

"I don't remember ever meeting him."

"That's because we had a falling out a long time ago. You were just kids at the time."

"What do you think killed him?"

"Daniel specialized in hunting vampires. I'm guessing they finally got the better of him."

Sam leaned forwards in his seat, looking his father in the eye. "So what now?" Damn him if he tried to keep them out of this.

John eye-balled him right back. "Now we go to Colorado."

"And what in the hell do you think you're doing?" an annoyed John demanded of Faith as he watched her toss a duffel bag into the trunk of the Impala.

"What does it look like, Grumpy Senior?"

"It looks like you're under the impression that you're coming with us."

"No shit, he gets it in one."

John looked to Sam for help, but Sam just shrugged and smirked. "You're not coming," John protested.

Faith snorted and folded her arms. "What, like you think you can stop me?"

"Ah, let her come," expressed Bobby. "She's spunky. I like her."

She grinned over at him and blew him a kiss. "Thanks, whiskers."

It was the first time Bobby had blushed in over ten years.

"So this is the Colt, a gun that can kill a demon?" Giles questioned, once the Winchesters and Bobby and Faith had returned a few days later. He eyed the gun from over the top of his glasses. "I have to say, I'm a tad underwhelmed. I was expecting something slightly more impressive."

"Like a rocket launcher?" asked Andrew.

Giles shifted uncomfortably. "Um...yes, actually."

"Trust me," John said. "This little beauty'll do the job. We saw it work with our own eyes."

"Yeah, Johnny totally shot this vamp dude right in the head and he just fizzled out and died right in front of us." Faith crossed a boot over her knee and leaned back in her chair. "Wicked cool."

"It's great that you've got it and all," Willow spoke up. "But what do you plan on doing with it?"

"I'm going to go after the yellow eyed bastard that killed my family," John stated. "and kill him."

"Is that all?" Dean's voice was low, and he could barely look his father in the eye.

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

They both knew, of course. Just like they both knew that Dean would never be brave enough to say it out loud. He'd never be brave enough to ask his father whether he was planning to use the gun on Buffy, because he would never be brave enough to hear his father's answer. "Nothing...Sir."

"Do you know where the demon is?" Andrew wanted to know. "Because we've been trying locator spells, and we've come up with nothing."

"Andy's got a point," Faith stated. "It's all well and good having this funky gun and all, but it's kinda moot when we can't even find the demon."

John heaved a sigh. "We need to set a trap.

"A trap?" Kennedy didn't sound too convinced. "Don't we need some kind of bait? What could we use that he could possibly want?"

John said nothing, but glanced at Sam out of the corner of his eye.

Spotting this, Dean swivelled his head between his father and his brother. "No!"

"Look, I don't like this any more than you-"

"We are not using Sam as bait! Are you out of your mind?"

"Sam's the one thing we know he wants! He's the only one who's got a hope in hell in getting him out in the open."

"Uh...guys..." Sam tried to interrupt. He was ignored, of course.

"Well great. Why don't we just tie a ribbon 'round his neck and leave him in the middle of the road. Make it real easy for everyone."

"Dean-"

"Guys!" Sam repeated, louder this time. Everybody turned to look at him, and his face grew hotter. "I'll do it."

Dean shook his head. "Sam, you don't have to-"

"I want to. Seriously." He leaned forwards earnestly. "We're so close to getting the demon, Dean. To getting revenge for Mom, and Jess, and Buffy. And if this is the way we do it...fine. I'm all for it."

Sam leaned against a gravestone, idly tapping a stake against his thigh. He was bored. When he'd come out that night, his blood had been pumping with adrenaline, ready for action. But it had been hours, and he was still all alone – except for his dad and Dean and Bobby and Faith, who were hiding out in various points around the cemetery. But still, he felt alone. He hadn't even been approached by any vampires – a sure sign that there was something bigger and meaner out and about, right?

"Hello, Sammy," sang a voice out in front of him. He looked up sharply. Now that wasn't the one he wanted. "You look disappointed. Aren't you happy to see me?"

"Meg," he ground out. "Where is he?"

She held her hands out innocently. "I have no idea who you're talking about."

He stood up and balled his hands into fists. "Don't lie, it doesn't suit you."

"You know, words hurt, Sam." Any traces of humour left her face, and she began to stalk forwards. Sam backed up, until he felt the cool brick of a mausoleum wall behind him. "Nowhere to run, kiddo. You're all mine."

He fumbled around behind him and managed to open the mausoleum door. He backed in and quickly slammed the door in her face.

Outside, Meg rolled her eyes. "Rude," she muttered, before kicking the door open. "You think a little thing like that is gonna hold me back?"

He backed up again. "What do you want with me?"

For every step he took backwards, she matched him forwards, a wolfish smirk taking over her face. "I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise. Father wouldn't be happy."

"Doesn't matter, I already know. You think I'm gonna rule the demon world with him or something? You're totally crazy."

"How do you know tha-" She halted, when she came up against an invisible barrier. "What the hell?"

Every little bit of pretend fear washed away from Sam. He smirked at her, and looked down pointedly. "You should look where you're walking."

She followed his gaze, and her face turned thunderous. "A devil's trap, Sam. Really?" Her eyes shot up to his. "You'd better let me out of this right now."

"Or what?" came Bobby's voice. "You'll cuss us to death?"

Meg span around. Standing casually around the doorway were Bobby, Faith, John and Dean.

"Oh, fuck."

"Thanks for coming," John said to Willow and Giles a little way outside of the mausoleum, a little while later. "She ain't talking, even with the threat of exorcism. I was hoping there was something you could do to help us along..."

Willow winced and twisted her hands nervously. "I'm not sure. I mean, I could try, but...I've never actually done a truth spell on a demon before."

"Never?"

"No. There was this one time I was going to, but he ended up telling us everything we wanted to know without me even having to do the spell."

"Why?"

"Uhm..." A blush spread across her cheeks. "There were other...factors...involved. I sorta kinda accidentally made him propose to Buffy."

"This is one of those stories that I'm better off not knowing, right?"

"Probably."

"I have to say, this isn't exactly the demon any of us were aiming for," Giles acknowledged.

"No, she's not," John agreed. "But maybe we can get something useful out of her."

While the others talked outside, Sam and Faith and Bobby watched over Meg in the mausoleum. She had stopped throwing curses and threats their way by now, and was instead watching them all closely through small, careful eyes. Finally, her gaze seemed to settle on Faith.

"Buffy told me all about you, you know," she announced in a low voice.

"Ignore her, Faith," Sam warned.

"She told me how pathetic you are, how sad," Meg continued. "Always running around after her, trying to gain her attention, trying to be as good as her. But you never were. Never could be. It's pitiful, really."

Faith clenched her fists and stepped forwards, but stopped when Bobby placed a gentle hand on the crook of her elbow. "Don't, kid. She's just tryna rile you up into making a mistake."

Meg shrugged. "He's right, honey pie. Doesn't mean I'm not telling the truth though."

"You better shut your mouth, bitch," Faith growled.

"Or what? You were too stupid to ever beat Buffy, and you're too stupid to ever beat me."

"Don't you dare even say her name!"

"You mean Buffy? You know, she really is the most delightful thing. No wonder Dean wanted her more than he wanted you."

Faith snarled and shrugged off Bobby. She stormed into the circle and lifted Meg up by the throat.

Instead of being afraid, Meg smiled.

"What the hell are you grinning at?"

"Because she also said you were an idiot," she choked out. "And she was right."

"Wha-" Faith was cut off when an invisible forced pushed her away from Meg and slammed her into the opposite wall. She fell to the ground, blinking stars from her eyes.

Landing on her feet, Meg smirked and looked down at where Faith had accidentally scuffed the devil's trap when she had entered. "Oopsie daisy." Sam and Bobby made to run forwards but she flung them back as easily as if they'd been dolls. "Now," she began, striding forwards towards Faith. "I could just snap your neck and make this quick, but I think I want to play with your blood." She pulled out a jagged edged knife from the inside of her jacket and span it around. "I think I'll stick this in your neck." She knelt down before a still dazed Faith and lifted the knife up, but before she could bring it down, a shot rang out.

Meg's face was surprised for a split second, before her body lit up and buzzed as her energy died. And then she dropped to the ground, lifeless.

Shaking her head to try and clear the blurriness, Faith looked up. She could just make out Sam, still aiming the colt at where Meg had just been kneeling.

Dropping the gun, he shuffled over to her, stroking her hair and checking for injuries. "Are you okay?"

"No," she admitted. "I will be though. You...you uh...saved me."

"It was nothing."

"Well...thanks for that. Your dad'll be pissed you used one of those bullets, though."

"I don't care."

She opened and closed her mouth. He was being sincere. He was being sincere and looking down at her with those eyes and damn, were they having a moment? How inappropriate.

Bobby rolled his eyes. "When you two have stopped making googly eyes at each other, do you think you could spare a minute to help an old man up?"

Buffy screamed hoarsely and kicked out at the wall. Chunks of rock and plaster shattered on the ground, and she kicked out again and again, only seeming to be satisfied once a noticeable hole had appeared. She span around to face the demon watching her, growling when his yellow eyes narrowed.

"They killed her!" she cried. "How can you be so calm?"

"I'm not calm," he replied. "I'm furious. But to let fury rule you only leads to...broken walls."

"But she's dead. Meg is dead."

"I know. She was as much my daughter as she was your sister and it...grieves me. But you must be calm in order to carry out the plan."

As if a button had been pressed, Buffy was instantly calm. "What do we do now?"

"Now we initiate the last member into our family."

"Sam?"

"Yes indeed."


	39. Chapter 39

Hell House

AN – This chapter is based loosely around the Supernatural episode 'Hell House'.

Hell House

Kennedy let herself into the little house that she and Willow shared, shutting the door behind her and shedding her jacket with a sigh. "Baby?" she called. "You home?"

"Up here," came Willow's reply, from somewhere upstairs.

Smiling at the sound of her voice, Kennedy took the stairs two at a time, pausing when she reached their bedroom doorway. "Hey," she said softly, kicking off her boots and joining Willow on the bed.

Willow lowered the book she was reading and cocked her head. "Are you okay? You look worried."

"I'm fine."

"Really?" Willow looked doubtful.

"I don't know. I guess not. I just keep thinking."

"About what?"

"Shouldn't we have been attacked by now? Not that I'm looking for a big fight or anything – for once, anyway – but Sam killed that demon girl. Shouldn't the other demons be on some kind of vengeance kick? They've gotta be pretty pissed, right? She was one of their big guns."

Willow bit her lip. "Yeah, I've been thinking along the same lines. I mentioned it to John and Giles earlier today and they seem to think that the demon with the yellow eyes is planning something bigger."

"So he'd be too busy to get revenge?"

"That's what we're thinking."

"In a way, that makes what's coming seem even worse."

"It does."

Kennedy shivered, and then shook her head. She wasn't scared. She didn't do scared. "So where did Faith and Sam and Dean go, anyway? I saw them driving off this morning. And Vi said that she head them mention that they'd be away for a couple of days."

"Oh, well everyone is all with the tenseness and the angst, and Faith seems to be dealing with the situation a whole lot worse since the Meg thing. Sam thought it'd be a good idea to get her out of town for a day or two. Get some space, you know? They went off to investigate some haunted house somewhere."

"What a pair of geeks," Faith expressed, snorting as she and Sam discussed Harry Spangler and Ed Zeddmore while they browsed the library. "Professional Paranormal Investigators my ass."

"I just hope they don't get in our way," Sam replied. As they continued to research, he noticed that Faith kept on shooting him little glances out of the corner of her eye. She'd been doing it ever since he'd saved her from Meg, and it left him puzzled. "What?"

"What what?"

"You keep looking at me."

If he wasn't mistaken, he was sure that Faith actually...blushed. "No I don't," she denied quickly.

"Okay." He was pretty sure he was never going to understand her. He stood up and began to move away, pausing when Faith got up to follow him. "What are you doing?"

She looked at him like he was stupid. "I'm not supposed to leave you alone. Big evil demon wants you, remember?"

"Yeah, but I'm just going to the toilet. I have to take a leak."

"Oh." She stepped back. "I guess you can do that on your own."

"No kidding." He rolled his eyes and headed towards the toilets. This never being left alone thing was wearing pretty thin.

He peed, and was just about to put himself away when his arm was grabbed and he was harshly yanked back and pressed up against the far wall. "Hey, Sam," said a low voice in his ear.

Sam went cold all over. "Buffy?"

"If that's what you want to call me. I prefer...slayer." She whispered the last word slowly, seductively. He opened his mouth but she shoved him harder against the wall. "Don't be thinking about doing what I know you're thinking about doing. If you call Faith in here, I'll make sure to kill her. Extra hard and extra painful."

"You wouldn't do that," he protested, wincing at her grip.

"The Buffy you knew wouldn't do that. Don't make the mistake of thinking I'm her."

"Okay, okay. I won't call her, I promise. But, uh...I'm kind of hanging out here..."

Her grip on him lessened a fraction. "What?"

"I'm sort of still hanging out of my pants." He blushed a beetroot red. "I was peeing..."

A wide grin spread across her face, and with a chuckle, she let him go and stepped back. A pair of unashamed eyes watched him as he tucked himself back in. "Nice."

His blush deepened even further, and he quickly reached for the dagger he kept hidden under his shirt. It wasn't there. When he looked up, Buffy was twirling it around her fingers, casually. "Why are you here?"

"I'm not here to kill you, if that's what you're worried about. Although I gotta tell you, if father hadn't of forbid it, I'd be ripping your intestines out right now for what you did to my sister."

"When we get the real Buffy back, she'll be glad. I want to speak to her."

"Who?"

"The real Buffy."

"Honey, I am the real Buffy."

"I mean the one you have trapped in there."

She tutted and crossed her arms. "You mean the stupid, weaker, human version of myself. Oh Sammy, she's gone for good now."

"I don't believe you."

"I don't really care what you believe. I'm here for a reason, and that's not to answer your stupid questions."

"Then what is the reason?"

"I want you to meet me in three days time, on Sunday, at midnight. At the very centre of Kimbrough forest."

"Kimbrough forest...That's where we killed Hatoss."

"Yes. Poetic, really."

"And what if I don't? What if I don't meet you?"

"Then I'll kill everyone you love. And when I've finished with them – 'cause really, not that long a list – I'll just start killing everyone else. And I've refrained from killing anyone in this body so far...do you really want to taint your precious Buffy?"

"No, don't kill anyone! I'll...I'll meet you."

"I knew you would. And make sure you're alone, 'kay?"

"Will you at least tell me why I have to meet you? Why can't you do whatever it is you have planned here and now?"

"Because it's time you joined the family, little brother, and everything must be timed right."

And then she was gone.

"So why does it have to be in three days?" Buffy asked the yellow eyed demon, once she had returned. "Is Sunday some kind of special magical day or something?"

"No. Sunday is the full moon."

"Oh. Is the full moon important for the spell."

"Nah," he answered, shrugging. "I just like the way it makes the sky glow."

"So...what do we do now?" Sam questioned, once he had relayed what had happened to Faith and Dean.

Dean blew out a long whistle and sat back in his chair. "Now we finish up this job, and get the hell back to Cleveland to prepare for Sunday."


	40. Chapter 40

Real

AN – I hope this chapter makes sense. A lot of the time I write things that don't really make sense...

Real

"Snap!" Faith repeated for the fourth time, grinning triumphantly as she pulled the stack of cards towards herself.

Andrew pouted and rubbed his hand. "That hurt. I'm not a demon, you know. You don't have to slay my hand."

"You're just a bad loser."

Dean watched them bicker, rolling his eyes as they started to nudge each other on the floor in the centre of the living room in the apartment. "You guys suck," he stated. When they ignored him, he turned to Giles, who had joined them for the evening and was sat on the sofa next to Dean. "I'm heading to bed. These kids are giving me a headache."

"I don't blame you," Giles responded. "I suspect things are about to get very ugly. Andrew pulls hair when he gets angry." His face turned serious. "Do try to get as much sleep as you can. I have a feeling none of us will be getting any tomorrow night."

Dean nodded and pulled himself up. Once alone in Buffy's bedroom, he let out a relieved sigh, glad to finally get some peace. He moved over to her window and picked up the little glass bottle of dirt she kept on the sill – taken from the crater that was once Sunnydale, according to Giles. His girl had some weird mementos. Sighing for the second time, he put the bottle down and glanced up at the moon. It was bright and round, but not quite full.

That would be tomorrow night.

After kicking off his boots and jeans, he flopped down onto the bed and rested his hands behind his head. Despite what Giles had said, he doubted he'd be able to fall asleep. There was far too much going on in his head.

Yeah, he wasn't going to fall as-

He was standing in a bedroom. Not the bedroom he had just been in, although it had the same kind of feel. He suspected this one belonged to a girl younger than Buffy.

"This was my bedroom back in Sunnydale," a voice remarked.

He turned around, unsurprised to see Buffy. She was sat on the bed, surrounded by the light that shone in from the window. He nodded, and sat down next to her. Not too close, though. Not close enough to touch. If he touched her, she'd disappear. "It's nice."

"Yeah. Kinda childish though. It's all gone now." She swept her arm around, indicating all of her belongings. "Sunk into the crater with the rest of the town. Apart from that, of course." She gestured towards a picture of her and Dawn and their mother, the one that currently resided on the mirror in her new bedroom. "Towards the end I took to carrying it around with me everywhere I went. I don't know why..."

"So," Dean spoke up, after a long minute of contemplative silence had passed. "Which Buffy are you? My Buffy or evil Buffy?"

"You know, she's not evil. She's being controlled."

He shrugged. "Which one?"

She sighed. "I'm the one who loves you."

"So you ain't gonna try kill me or anything, right? 'Cause I kinda got the feeling that's what you wanted to do the last time we met."

"That's what he wanted her to want to do."

"Could you make any less sense?"

"I'm sorry. But you know that wasn't me."

"So...you're real?"

"Maybe. Or maybe I'm a dream, just a figment of your imagination. Does it really matter?"

"What matters is that you're here."

"That's what I was hoping you'd say." She cocked her head at him and smiled ruefully. "You know you're gonna lose tomorrow night, right?"

"What now?"

"If you don't figure out what the prophecy really means, you'll lose. You'll lose everything."

"But nobody gets it. I don't get it. There was something about me giving you some kind of a gift. You want a gift?"

She tutted impatiently. "Really, Dean?"

He rolled his eyes at his own stupidity. "Okay, that is kind of dumb. But I just don't understand."

"Then let me show you." She stood up and held out her hand expectantly.

Dean looked at the proffered hand and shrank back. "I can't take that. If I touch you, you'll vanish."

"No I won't, not yet."

Slowly, he reached up and took her hand.

By the time he was on his feet, his surroundings had changed.

"Is this a desert?" he asked, scratching his head.

"Sh!" Buffy hissed. She was sitting down on a wooden log in front of a large fire. She looked younger than the Buffy he knew. With a slight nod, she gestured towards a strange woman, moving about the flames. "It's the very first slayer. She has something to tell me, so you'd better be quiet."

"Death is your gift..." the first slayer hissed at Buffy.

Dean looked between Buffy and the first slayer and frowned. "What in the hell does that mean?"

Buffy looked up at him. "This is the moment I figured that out."

He started. He was stood behind Buffy on the top of a badly made tower. Her back was to him, and she was gripping Dawn's shoulders as she spoke with intensity. He tried to hear what she was saying, but she had already stopped talking. As he watched, she leaned forwards and kissed Dawn's cheek. She turned and ran straight through him.

"No!" he called out desperately as she jumped. He ran after her and followed her off the edge.

When he landed, it was on the hard floor of what looked like an ordinary office. He pulled himself up and stared angrily at Buffy, who was sat at a desk.

"Why did you show me that?" he demanded angrily.

"Death was her gift," Buffy answered simply. She turned to the girl sitting opposite her. "This is Amanda. She was with us before Sunnydale fell."

"Where is she now?"

"She died."

"Oh. So this here is before she died?"

"No. This came after."

"Then how-"

"This is a dream. A dream within a dream. It's all very complicated."

Comprehension dawned. "Amanda...is this the dream you and Faith had just before me and you met?"

She didn't answer him, but smiled. But her smile quickly faded, and she threw down the little hand mirror he hadn't even realized she'd been holding. "Was it me?" she asked Amanda, looking horrified.

"Was it you? Maybe." Amanda replied. "But I think he'll save you."

"Is she talking about me?" He blinked, and when he opened his eyes, he was in what he recognized as the training room at the school.

Buffy was walking towards a girl huddled up in a dark corner. "Maggie?"

"That's that chick who went all dark side and then got killed," Dean hissed, remembering the name.

Maggie's head darted up, and Dean thought she had heard him. But she was looking at Buffy. And she was cackling. "Just because you think it's over..." she started. "...doesn't mean you've won."

"Tell me what you mean," Buffy demanded.

"He'd go to the end of the world to save you. He'd die. He'd sacrifice it all." Maggie stood up and slowly walked towards Buffy, reaching up on her tip toes to whisper in Buffy's ear. "But death is his gift."

Buffy frowned. "Don't you mean death is my gift?"

Maggie tutted three times, shaking her head slowly. "Death is his gift."

Buffy turned around, folding her arms as she eyed Dean. "Do you get it yet?"

"No..."

"That's okay. There's still a few more stops."

The next scene he remembered easily. Buffy's birthday. It felt like just yesterday, while at the same time it felt a whole lifetime ago.

"Dean's turn!" Faith sang, after she and Sam had given Buffy their birthday presents.

Dean remembered his role. Quite clearly embarrassed, he reached inside of his jacket and pulled out a badly wrapped package from one of the inside pockets. "It's nothing special," he mumbled, throwing it carelessly over in Buffy's direction. "Just a bit of cheap junk."

"Dean!" Buffy gasped over the necklace he had given her. "It's so beautiful."

"It's a quartz," he explained gruffly. "Uh, a tourmaline in quartz or some crap like that. It's supposed to uhm...I mean, the old guy in the store said it means home. It's supposed to remind you where home is."

And then the two of them were stood outside a motel. It was night time, and no one else was around. They had just walked back from the crazy ass Bender household. Dean and Buffy stood with their arms around each other.

"This one's my favourite," she admitted.

Just like they had done before, they exchanged words of love, before Buffy told him that she needed to be alone for a while.

"But you're coming back, right?" Dean asked.

"I'm coming back," Buffy promised.

"Because as much as I absolutely hate the idea and want to shoot it in the face, I could possibly understand why you'd want to go home-"

"Dean," she stopped him. "You are my home. Wherever you are, that's where I want to be."

"I should never have let you go," Dean stated simply, stroking a hand over her hair.

"I would have gone anyway. The demon was always going to get me."

"But maybe-"

"There's no maybes." She slid her hands down his arms and captured his. "Come on. One final stop."

They were back at the school.

"There was one last thing written, about the one who loves them the most," said Missouri, to those gathered around the table as she explained the translated prophecy. "Only he can save them, by giving the daughter the gift that he was destined to give her."

Buffy turned from the scene to look at him. "Now do you get it?"

"I'm not sure..."

"Then I'll tell you-"

Dean sat up in bed, a cold sweat breaking out over his entire body. He cursed loudly. Why had he woken up? Just before he was about to get his answer.

Because you already know the answer, a little voice whispered to him.

And then he got it. She'd shown him. Death had been her gift to Dawn. She'd died to save Dawn. And now death was his gift. He had to die to save Buffy and Sam.

In the living room, Faith and John were talking in low voices. Dawn and Lewis were asleep in Dawn's room, and Sam and Andrew were in the kitchen. Giles had left and Bobby had fallen asleep on the armchair and was snoring softly, a half drunk beer in one hand, and his shot gun laid across his chest.

"You know that Buffy is probably going to have to die," John said gruffly. It wasn't a question.

Faith brought her knees up to her chest, surprised at his brutal honesty. "I know."

"And you understand that there's a big chance that you'll have to be the one to do it?"

She said nothing. The thought had occurred to her.

"I doubt Sam'll be in any position to...not that he could ever...and Dean...he loves her too much. And I suspect you're the only other one who's gonna be able to get close enough."

"Yeah...I know."

"Could you do it?"

Faith didn't answer for a long time. "She's trapped in there. So, to save her..." she uttered eventually. "I could do it to save her."


	41. Chapter 41

Useless

Useless

It was the night of the full moon, and finally time for Sam to meet Buffy and find out just what exactly she and the yellow eyed demon had in store for him.

"So, everybody knows the plan, right?" John asked to the group gathered just outside of the forest.

"I go in alone," Sam spoke up. "just like she said."

John nodded. "We'll all be waiting for your signal out here."

"The sound of a gunshot."

"Right."

"I'll try to keep tabs on you, too," Willow added. "But I don't know how well that'll work. Who knows what kind of magic they've got going on."

John pressed the colt into Sam's hands, and kept his hands clasped around Sam's for a moment. "You don't have to do this."

"Yes, I do."

"It'll be dangerous."

Sam nodded. "I know that. But if I don't go in, they'll start killing people. I can't let that happen."

"I'm proud of you, son." He looked over at Dean. "Of both of you."

Taking a deep breath, Sam turned around and entered the forest.

As he neared the centre of the forest, all noises from the outside world faded and disappeared. It was eerily quiet, and Sam could only concentrate on the sound of his beating heart and the crunching of leaves and twigs underneath his feet.

Finally, he spotted Buffy through the trees. She sat on a wooden log in a long, white dress. Her hair was golden, and her skin glowed. She looked the picture of innocence.

As Sam drew nearer, he heard her singing softly.

"Day is done, gone the sun. From the lakes, from the hills, from the sky. All is well, safely rest; God is nigh."

He recognized it as a lullaby. It sounded oddly scary coming from her lips.

She stopped singing, and looked over her shoulder at him with a smile. Her eyes were black. "Hello, brother."

Sam lifted the colt and pointed it straight at her head.

Just outside the line of the forest, Dean was eyeing the rest of the group closely. Along with the usual gang, there were over a dozen slayers. All with heightened senses – but none were paying any attention to him.

Slowly, so as not to draw any unnecessary attention his way, he edged away from the group. And when he was sure that nobody was looking, he darted through the trees and into the forest.

He had a part to play in this, and he'd be damned if he was going to miss out.

"Where is he?" Sam demanded, edging towards Buffy and still pointing the gun at her. "The demon that killed my mom, where is he?"

She seemed unconcerned about the gun and just watched him tiptoe towards her, an amused glint shining in her eyes. "You mean Azazel?"

"What?"

"It's only polite to call him by his real name."

"I think we moved way past polite when he killed my mom and girlfriend. Where is he?"

She sighed and and flicked a lock of hair behind her shoulder, as if Sam was boring her. "Obviously he's not here right now. He's saving himself all up for the grand finale."

"Well then you can answer my questions. What does he want with me? And with you? What does he want us for?"

"Come along now, Sammy, you already know the answer to that. It is written that a man of pure evil," she recited. "will chose a daughter and a son, a girl and a boy. The girl will be the warrior and creator, and the boy will be the youngest son. And with his two children ruling by his side, he will bring about a new age for demons." She smiled serenely. "When you join us, Sam, you'll have more power than you could ever dream of."

Sam shook his head. "This isn't you, Buffy."

"Well, duh! I'm more powerful than Buffy ever was. I'm unbeatable."

"No, you're nothing compared to Buffy. You're just a puppet being controlled by the demon. If he didn't have you under his spell, you'd understand how wrong this is."

She pretended to yawn. "I'm sorry, you were droning?"

Faith hissed out a curse. She'd been searching the group for the past couple of minutes and it had become quite apparent that Dean had vanished, and there was no guessing as to where he had run off to.

The stupid ass was going to get himself killed!

With another very colourful curse, she slowly backed away from the group and darted into the forest after Dean.

If she died because of him, she was going to kill him.

Buffy cocked her head to one side. After a moment, she smirked wickedly. "Looks like Dean and Faith are coming to play." From nowhere, she pulled out a dangerously vicious looking dagger and ran it gently over her lips. "Buffy used this very knife to stab Faith one time, you know," she informed Sam. "What do you say we get the bitch to stay good and dead this time, huh?"

With determination, Sam clicked the safety off of the gun. "You won't hurt her."

Rolling her eyes impatiently at his bravado, she waved her hand as if she was swatting at a fly. An invisible force slammed into Sam. He flew backwards and into a tree, and the colt dropped from his hand.

"Don't be so stupid, Sam," she expressed, finally standing up. "You and I both know that you could never pull the trigger." She trailed her fingers from her breast to her bellybutton. "Not when you love this body so."

"You're crazy."

"What now?"

"I said you're crazy. You'd have to be if you think I would ever be one of you." He struggled against the invisible binds that held him to the tree, but it was to no avail.

"Maybe I am crazy," she conceded. "But you will be one of us. And once the ritual is complete, you'll realize that it's what you really wanted all along."

"What do you mean? What ritual?"

"The one that started when you were just six months old."

"The night my mom was killed..."

"Azazel fed you his blood. Of course, back then he had a whole other plan in mind, but then he came across the prophecy. Those pesky visions of yours...a sweet li'l gift from him."

"My God, he...he fed me his blood?" Sam felt like he was about to hurl.

"Yup, and now I'm going to feed you some of mine. See, like I said before, there's this whole ritual, and it's a whole blood thing. You need to ingest demon blood, and really, what could be stronger than mine? It's perfect. That's why he had to get me first."

"You're not...Buffy, come on! You're not making me drink your blood!"

She strode over and stopped right in front of him. "Hey, don't knock it 'till you've tried it." She put the tip of Faith's dagger to her arm and was just about to cut when a voice from behind her interrupted.

"Buffy...no!"

Sighing, she lowered the dagger and turned around. "Dean."

"Dean!" John called out. "Where are you? I wanna talk to you about something." He frowned when there was no immediate answer. "Dean? Is everything all right?"

Giles pushed his way to the front of the crowd. "He isn't here," he muttered to John.

John swore loudly. "He must have gone in. I should've known he'd pull a stunt like this."

"As if you wouldn't have done the same," Bobby grumbled. "He's just like his old man, that one."

"Um, guys," Andrew interrupted. "I can't find Faith anywhere."

Giles looked at John. "You don't think..."

"I don't know her as well as you do. Does going in there sound like the kind of thing she'd do?"

Giles looked grim. "It sounds exactly like the kind of thing she'd do."

"Right. This has gotten way too outta control for my liking."

"I agree. I think it's time we called the whole thing off and regrouped."

John turned to the group of slayers and whistled to get their attention. "We're aborting the plan," he informed them loudly. "We need to go in now and get Sam and Dean and Faith out." Without waiting for an answer, he turned and charged towards the forest. "Whoa!" he yelled, jumping backwards when a line of fire flared up, right outside the trees.

"What on earth..." Giles murmured, as he and everyone else was forced back. As he watched, the fire quickly began to spread, catching onto the trees.

"Willow!" John shouted desperately. "You need to do something! My boys are trapped in there! They'll be burnt alive!"

Willow nodded and held up her hand in front of the flames. "Unda*," she muttered. But instead of killing the fire like she had intended, it only grew worse. The heat became hotter, the flames, faster, bigger. She stepped back and shook her head. "Powerful magic is blocking mine."

"Whose magic?" Andrew asked.

"Buffy's."

Giles frowned. "Buffy doesn't have that kind of magic."

"It's likely a loan from the demon."

"He can do that?"

"He has her under his complete control. He can do anything he wants."

"Please," John begged – something he was obviously not used to doing. "You have to do something."

Willow wrung her hands nervously for a moment. "I can try to concentrate my energy around them and keep the fire off them. But I don't know how long it'll last. Like I said before, this is really powerful magic..."

John looked resolved. "Do it."

It had only been moments, but Dean could already feel the heat of the fire. "What did you do?" he demanded of Buffy, horrified.

She glanced at him like he was stupid. "I couldn't let ol' Daddy Winchester and the troops come marching in, silly. They'd have ruined the party, and this was really meant to be a small gathering." She clapped her hands in a businesslike fashion. "Now, you," She nodded towards Dean. "be patient and wait your turn. "And you," She looked back at Sam. "Let's get with the initiation."

Dean's feet were frozen to the floor. What was he supposed to do? It was his brother...It was the woman he loved...What was he supposed to do?

"Can't let you do that, B," came a new voice.

Buffy span around, momentarily surprised by how close Faith was standing. For one short second, she let her guard down. That one short second was all Faith needed. Like lightning, her fist shot out and connected with Buffy's cheek. As Buffy lost her concentration, the invisible binds holding Sam to the tree vanished, and he slid down to the ground.

Buffy quickly recovered from the attack, and glared at Faith. "That was annoying," she said. "I'd hoped the flames had killed you by now."

"You know me," Faith replied nonchalantly, moving into a fighting stance. "I'm always ready to piss you off."

"Are you gonna tell me how much you don't want to fight me again? 'Cause that was awfully boring last time."

"Actually I was going to apologize."

"Why?"

"Because I'm gonna save you. And it ain't gonna feel too good."

Buffy snorted, and leapt at Faith.

Sam watched them for a moment, slightly in shock. They fought so fast that their movements were blurred. It seemed like Faith was doing a little better than the last time – although that was likely because she was more prepared this time around – but she still wasn't even close to gaining the upper hand. Buffy was deadly.

Shaking himself, Sam scrambled up. As good as she was, Faith wouldn't be able to keep Buffy occupied forever. He threw a quick glance at Dean, who was still frozen too the spot. "Dean, we ave to find the colt!"

It took a moment for Sam's word to register in Dean's brain. They had to find the colt...they had to find the colt so that they could use it on Buffy...so that they could kill Buffy. He shook his head uselessly and backed up.

Sam got down on all floors, crawling around until his hand hit something hard and cold.

The colt!

He hissed in triumph and grabbed it up.

Buffy noticed his movements immediately and kicked Faith hard in the chest, sending her flying. Quicker than Sam even had a chance to ready the gun, she was by his side. Lifting him up by his throat, she walked him back and slammed him against a tree. "Don't worry," she whispered cruelly. "You're body doesn't have to be in perfect shape for the ritual to work. And once you're one of us, you'll be stronger and healthier than ever."

Black spots began to dance in front of Sam's eyes as he started to lose conciseness. His grip on the colt loosened, until he dropped it once again onto the floor.

Out of the corner of her eye, Buffy saw Faith pick herself up off the floor. She sighed heavily. "You people are very annoying." She let Sam drop to the floor and then kicked him hard in the face. His head shot back and slammed into the tree, and his body dropped to the floor. He was lifeless and still, except for the blood that dripped down from somewhere is his hair and over his face.

Faith charged towards Buffy, and they took up with a flurry of fists. But it seemed that Buffy had lost all of her patience with the fight, and Faith was soon on the ground, bloody and bruised and fighting to stay conscious.

Buffy lowered herself over Faith, a knee on either side of her body. She pulled out the dagger and raised it in the air, but was tackled by Dean before she could bring it down.

He had finally found his legs.

She kicked him off of her easily and he rolled and landed by Sam.

Faith twisted over and up onto her knees. She tried to crawl towards Dean and Sam, but her injuries were severe. She fell to the ground and was still.

Buffy picked herself up and looked over at Dean. "Why would you ever think that you could hurt me?" She sounded honestly baffled, and like she genuinely wanted to know. "When Sam and Faith couldn't?"

He climbed to his feet and held up a knife, coated in blood. "Well, this blood ain't mine."

She looked down, and sure enough, a line of blood was blossoming across her chest. It was only a shallow cut, but she looked pissed. "You ruined my dress! I had this made specially for tonight, you know."

"Besides," Dean continued, like she hadn't even spoken. "I know a little trick that they don't know." He held up his other hand. Dangling from his fingers was the necklace he had gotten her for her birthday.

She put a hand up to her neck. She hadn't even realized he'd taken it. "That's called stealing."

"You see, I know there's still a little bit of my Buffy in there somewhere. Otherwise, why would you be wearing this?"

She pursed her lips together and folded her arms. "You're all talk, Dean Winchester. You can't do anything to me."

"Yes I can." He looked determined. "I can remind you where home is."

"It's a quartz. It's supposed to remind you where home is."

Before Buffy had a chance to react, Dean slid he knife across his palm. His blood spilt out, mixing with hers. He had no idea why he was doing what he was doing. All he knew was that he was doing it, and it felt right. He gripped the necklace with his bloodied hand, and then threw it to the ground at Buffy's feet.

A wave of power shot out from the necklace, knocking them both off of their feet. Dean quickly recovered, and took the opportunity to snatch up the colt, which was lying right next to Sam. He pulled himself to his feet, and watched as Buffy did the same thing.

She stared over at him, and her black eyes flashed once, before turning back to their original colour.

"Buffy," he breathed. It was his Buffy, he knew it. He stepped towards her, but she held up her hand to halt him.

"Don't!" she choked out. "Don't come any closer."

"But it's you! I know it's you!"

Tears welled up in her eyes and spilled over. "Dean, I...I've seen terrible things. I've done terrible things."

"No, baby, that wasn't you!"

She let out a loud sob. "He...he made me..."

"I know, sweetheart. But I've got you now. I saved you, and none of us had to die. You're free!"

"I'm not, I'm not free. I can't...In a minute I'll be gone again. Please, Dean, you have to save me."

"What do you mean? I don't know how to save you!"

"Yes you do!"

"But how will me dying help save you?" He slowly looked down at the gun in his hand.

And then he got it.

Death was his gift. But not his death...hers. He had to kill her to save her, to set her free. His father had been telling him this all along. He should have listened.

With an aching heart, he lifted the gun and pointed it at Buffy with a trembling hand. "But...I can't..."

The forest was burning.

Flames soared above them, consuming the thick trees and eating up the ground, destroying everything in its path quicker than it took to take a breath. The dark, midnight sky could no longer be seen through the orange blaze and black smoke, and the burning heat was long past being unbearable.

No one could get in.

No one could get out.

Dean couldn't help but notice how despite flames, the four of them seemed to be immune. He wasn't sure whether this was because the demon's mojo was trying to protect Buffy, or if Willow was somehow helping them from the outside, but he knew that the circle of ground unaffected by flames wouldn't last for long. Even now, the heat was beginning to seep through. Sweat trickled down his forehead, his t-shirt stuck to his shaking body, and the hand in which he held his gun was slippery. He needed to think. Fast. But how could he think when his world was crashing down around him? When his heart was shattering into tiny pieces? When everything he had worked so hard to protect, everything he loved, was quickly slipping away?

Without lowering his gun or moving his head, he looked to his his left. Sam, barely conscious, had woken up and was trying and failing to crawl to his knees. But he was too weak. The many injuries he had sustained were holding him down, the blood he had lost making his body frail.

And to his right, the second strongest girl he knew was laying on her front, her face pressed into the dirt and leaves, her dark hair surrounding her head on the ground around her. He wasn't even sure if Faith was alive.

"Do it!"

He looked up sharply, eyes locking with Buffy's, stood ten feet away. Too far. Always too far.

"Do it!" she pleaded, tears falling from her eyes. "Please! You have to do it!"

"I can't!" he yelled back, his voice hoarse.

"You have to! I can't...I can't hold back for much longer!"

"No! I'll fix you! I will, I promise. We just need to-"

"I'm not strong enough!"

"You are! You're stronger than anyone I've ever met!"

The roaring flames had become so loud that he had to scream. It teared up his throat but he didn't care. Didn't even notice.

"Please!" she begged. "I don't wanna hurt them anymore." Her eyes, filled with so much pain, mirrored his own perfectly as she glanced to her left and right before looking back at him. "You have to do it. Now!"

"How can I?" he pleaded, tears falling freely from his eyes. "I can't! I...I love you, damn it! God, I love you!"

"They'll die if you don't!" she cried. "All of them. Oh God, please! I can't...don't let me kill them. Please! You have to. Please!"

Never, not in all the time he'd know her, had he heard her beg. Not for anything. And now, to hear her pleading, begging...for this? It ripped him apart inside. But not nearly as much as the sound of the gun in his hand clicking as he cocked the trigger.

"I'm sorry," he choked out. "I'm so sorry."

And with an anguished sob, Dean pulled the trigger and, aiming straight at Buffy's heart, he shot.


	42. Chapter 42

Very Long Night

Very Long Night

A fierce gust of wind blew through the forest, knocking into the group waiting outside. And just like that, the fire went out. But the damage had already been done, and the trees were a blackened mess.

"The fire has gone!" Giles proclaimed, although he really needn't have bothered. The group were staring at the remaining smoke with something approaching a frightened awe.

"Everybody in! Now!" John called out. "We find Sam and Dean and Faith, and then we get the hell out of there."

Rona took lead of the slayers. "Everybody on guard!" she called out, following in after John. "Weapons out, eyes open!"

Nobody else spoke as they trekked through the forest. There was the occasional cough each time somebody inhaled a mouthful off smoke, but otherwise it seemed that they were too afraid to break the dark silence that had blanketed the forest since the fire had vanished.

Finally the group reached the centre. They stilled at what they saw.

Sam and Faith were both down. Sam was clinging to a tree and trying to pull himself up, but was failing miserably. Faith didn't appear to be moving at all.

In between the two, Dean was knelt on the floor, his back to everybody else. He was cradling a body all dressed in white. A body with a halo of golden hair.

"Buffy," Giles breathed.

Breaking away from the pack, John hurried over to help Sam onto his feet. But the second Sam was up, his knees gave way, and Bobby had to join them to keep him standing.

Andrew knelt down next to Faith and gingerly put two fingers to her pulse. "Thank God, she's alive. Somebody needs to help me!"

Two of the slayers, Penelope and Emma, joined Andrew and helped to pick her up.

Everybody else watched Dean, who still hadn't moved, nor relinquished his hold on Buffy.

Choked sobs could be heard, as the girls looked upon the body of their fallen leader.

Slowly, Willow stepped forwards and knelt down next to Dean.

"I killed her," he whispered to her.

She shook her head. "She's not dead."

Dean's head shot up, and he stared at her through bloodshot eyes. "Don't you lie to me. I shot her right in the heart. Her blood is...it's all over me."

"I can feel her," Willow told him softly. Tears spilled out from the corners of her eyes. "She's not dead. Not yet."

"But I don't...I don't understand. How can she not be dead?"

"Because the demon never gave her permission to die."

It was going to be a very long night.

Buffy's body was taken back to the school. Not knowing where else to put her, they laid her down in one of the hospital wing beds, next to Sam and Faith.

"I don't understand," Dawn said through her tears, as a small group gathered together. "Will someone please tell me what's happening to my sister? Is she dead? I...I just need to know. How can she still be alive when there's a bullet in her heart?"

Robin put a shaking hand on her shoulder to comfort her, and Lewis slid his fingers through hers.

"Dawn's right," John pointed out gruffly. "We need to talk about this now. What in the hell is going on?"

Willow, who had been wrapped up in Xander's arms, let go of him and stepped forwards. "I don't know the specifics," she said with a sniff. "But I know that I can still feel her energy. It's still there, but really faint. It's like...she's frozen. She's under the demon's spell, and under his complete control. He never gave her permission to die, so she can't die. Not until he's dead. Once he's dead, his control over her will be gone."

Gunn shook his head. "That's sick. So she's just...half dead until we kill that demon? And then when we do, she just dies?"

She nodded. "Once he's dead, the spell dies with him."

"I don't mean to make a morbid situation even worse," Bobby spoke up. "But how do we know the demon ain't gonna use all that mojo on her right now? He could tell her to just wake up and kill us all in our sleep, for all we know."

"There's no way his magic's getting through the barriers we have up here," Xander explained. He looked to Willow for confirmation. "Right?"

"Right."

"Can't we make her better?" Andrew asked quietly.

"I've already tried," Willow replied. She didn't continue. Nobody needed to hear how it hadn't worked. They already knew.

Dean looked up at the group, acknowledging that he even realized they were there for the first time. "So...she's still trapped in there?" he demanded. "I shot her in the heart and she's still stuck. I didn't free her?"

"It was the right thing to do." Dawn's voice was hoarse, and it looked like it hurt her to say the words. "At least now she doesn't have to...doesn't have to watch herself do all those things. She isn't being controlled now. This is better. If Buffy was awake...she'd tell you it was better."

"So now what?"

Andrew swiped at his tears and pulled a fierce face. "Now we find that stupid demon and kill it!"

If anybody was surprised by Andrew's uncharacteristic boldness, they didn't mention it.

Willow nodded and looked at Dean. "Andrew's right. The demon needs to die. Not only for your mother, but for Buffy, too. Once he's dead, we can finally set her free."

It was late, or early, or the point when it's still dark just before the sun rose.

Dean walked down the corridors of the school, alone. He hadn't wanted to go back to the apartment. Sam and Faith were still sleeping in the hospital wing, and Dawn was inconsolable. He wanted to help her, but he didn't know how. Lewis was with her, holding her, stroking her hair. Small gestures that she probably didn't even notice, but needed.

Dean, on the other hand, had a giant, gaping hole in his chest where his heart was supposed to me. A big pit of darkness swirled around inside it, and he was pretty sure a cuddle wouldn't be making him feel better any time soon.

It was only when he came to the double white doors that he realized his feet had led him to the hospital wing. He was obviously looking for some more pain to feed the hole. Pushing the door open a crack, he glanced inside to make sure that nobody else was in there. His heart fell when he spotted Willow, sat on a chair at the end of Buffy's bed. Her head was in her hands and her whole body was shaking. He was just about to go inside to comfort her – despite his wanting to be alone – when he saw his father walk over to her from the other side of the room. He blinked as he watched John hand her a steaming cup of something. Tea, maybe, or coffee.

"Thanks," she said, blowing on it. "And sorry for breaking down on you. I've just...I've been trying to be strong and stay in control all night so I can be there for the girls but I just...everyone's so...I saw Giles cry. I walked into his office without knocking and there he was, sniffling away, and I've never seen him...not even when Buffy...you know?"

"Would it make me just as crazy as you if I said yes?"

Dean's eyes widened at the tender sound of his father's voice.

"Probably." She gave him a sniffly half smile. "Did you speak to Nurse Kirsty while you were making the tea?"

"Yeah. She told me Sam and Faith are doing well. Sam's got a pretty bad concussion, but the rest is just surface damage. He'll be fine in a week. Faith's in worse shape."

"It's nothing a nifty bit of slayer healing and a truck load of pains meds wont fix."

"That's what the nurse said." There was a long pause, and then, "She's very pretty."

Dean realized that his father was talking about Buffy.

"She always has been. Even caked in demon slime and covered in vampire dust."

"I can see why Dean loves her. When I look at her a certain way...she reminds me of Mary."

"From what I remember, it was hardly a love at first sight thing when Buffy and Dean first met."

"Sounds about right if I know anything about my son...She looks so peaceful."

"She's not." Willow's voice shook noticeably on the two words.

"What?"

"She isn't peaceful. Not inside."

"I don't understand..."

She shook her head. "I couldn't say before...not in front of the others...especially not in front of Dean...she's in so much pain. She can feel the bullet in her heart."

"Oh God...Isn't there anything we can do?"

"I've tried everything I can think of. Everything I know. The only thing left to do is to kill the demon. Quickly."

Out in the hall, Dean stepped back against the wall and slid to the ground. His hole had just turned into a crater.


	43. Chapter 43

Just A Dream

AN – So I've had this chapter almost done for a couple of weeks, but I've been distracted by my daughter (4 months old and already a terror) and by the Cassandra Palmer series by Karen Chance – which I've only just discovered and haven't been able to put down! And maybe I've been a little reluctant because I know the end to this story is coming soon. :(

I got the feeling I upset a person or two with the last chapter (mwahaha) so I added a little bit of something to the beginning of this one. Big smiley thank you goes to Lola Stang, for giving me the idea :)

Anyway, on we trot...

Just A Dream

A devilish grin slowly took over Buffy's face. She cocked an eyebrow as she regarded Dean and moved into a fighting stance, fists raised. "You really want to spar? Now?"

Dean smirked and circled her. "Well I didn't bring you out to this field to pick daisies. Besides, I always wanna spar with you." Of course, he managed to make it sound dirty.

"Spar with me slash cop a feel, right?"

"Hoh yeah, baby!"

She seemed to consider it for a moment. "Fine. But when I win you have to buy me breakfast."

"You just ate breakfast."

"Second breakfast."

"What are you, a hobbit?"

Buffy lowered her arms for a moment and snorted. "You read Lord of the Rings?"

"I watched the movie."

"Yeah, me too. The book was stupid long."

He waved his arms dismissively. "It doesn't matter. Because when I win, you're going to be too busy gettingnekkid to eat breakfast."

She'd kind of been planning on getting naked with him anyway, so all in all it was a win/win situation. "Deal."

Dean darted forwards and threw a punch her way – he'd never held back with her – which she easily blocked. She countered, but he grabbed her fist out of the air and span her around. Pulling her backwards, he rubbed his groin against her ass.

"What if Faith and Sam come back?" she uttered, making no move to try and get away.

"Trust me," he murmured in her ear. "they won't be back for hours. Faith took Sam weapon shopping."

"Ooh, maybe I should have gone with them. I like a good" She reached behind her and grabbed his crotch. "weapon."

He groaned and placed a wet and hungry kiss to her shoulder. She used his lack of concentration to break the hold he had on her and flipped him over her shoulder. He landed on his back in front of her with a thud.

She placed her triumphant hands on her triumphant hips. "I think that means I win."

Glaring up at her for a second, Dean kicked out at her legs, determined to wipe that smug expression off of her face. She fell down, and he quickly rolled on top of her. "Actually, I think you'll find that means I win." He sealed the deal by kissing the breath out of her.

Not even bothering to show the barest smidgeon of a resistance, Buffy wrapped her arms around his neck and happily kissed him back. "Mm." She pulled away for a second. "If I'dve known losing was this much fun I would have declared myself a big fat loser a long time ago."

The kissing probably would have continued in a much naughtier direction had Buffy not felt the shock of a cold raindrop on her cheek. And another. And another and another and another. She squealed and pushed Dean off of her before jumping to her feet. She hopped from one foot to another whilst trying to cover her head. "My hair!"

Still on his butt on the floor, Dean had to hold onto his stomach as he laughed hard at her girly response.

She sent him a steely glare and stopped trying to protect her ruined hair. She folded her arms across her chest. "You think you're so funny, Dean Winchester, but you're totally-"

Dean's eyes flickered open.

He wasn't in a wet field. It wasn't a month before.

He was in Buffy's bedroom. He was alone.

But what had woken him?

High pitched screams were coming from somewhere in the apartment. Well that would do it.

He grabbed the gun from under his pillow and rolled out of bed, hurrying out into the hallway. He paused at what he saw. "Andy?"

Andrew was leaping about the hallway, shrieking and waving his arms around his head. Dawn was leaning against her doorway, watching bemusedly. "Spider! Spider!" He smacked at his head dementedly. "It's in my hair!"

Dean dropped his gun. "Oh, for fu-"

Sam was exhausted, both physically and mentally. He and his father had been going at it for hours. Talking and yelling and talking and even throwing a couple of threats around. And then some more talking.

He couldn't believe his dad had known that the demon – or Azazel – had given him blood when he was a baby. How could he have neglected to tell him that?! Well, he knew – John had his reasons. He always had his reasons. Sam wasn't sure what he was most pissed about, the fact that his father hadn't filled him in, or the fact that he could kind of understand why.

He just wanted to protect him.

It kind of didn't make him want to punch him any less though.

Sighing, he flopped down onto Faith's bed – she'd told him he could use it when she wasn't at home.

When he next looked up, he wasn't alone.

"Hello, Sam."

Sam let out a very undignified grunt and leaped off of the bed. He yanked the gun out of his belt and aimed it at Azazel. "How the hell did you get in here?" Oh God, Dean was home too. "Where's Dean? Dean! Dean!" Through the open doorway, he watched Dean exit Buffy's bedroom. Instead of coming to Sam's aid, he ambled in the direction of the bathroom, yawning. Sam's mouth gaped open, until realization dawned. "I'm dreaming..."

"And he gets it in one! You really are a smart kid, Sammy. That's why I always like you so darned much."

Sam narrowed his eyes. "What do you want from me? Your plan to bring me over to the 'dark side' failed, in case you missed it. I'm not part of your little family, and neither is Buffy any more."

"You might as well lower that gun," Azazel replied with a roll of his eyes. "Not that it would do you much good, even if this wasn't all going on inside your head. And whilst we're on the subject of Buffy, I'd like to mention how disappointed I am in how that turned out. I was...fond of her. She's always been a favourite of mine, even when she was hacking away at my kids. Hey, Sam, do you want to know a secret?" When Sam just glared at him, he cupped a hand around his mouth teasingly and leaned towards him. "I know a way to save her."

Sam gritted his teeth. No way was he about to believe him. "You're lying."

Azazel shrugged and stepped back. "Think what you like, kiddo, but you should know that there's more to this whole Buffy situation that that little witch of yours realizes."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"You're all under the impression that the Buffy you know and adore is trapped inside that misfit school of rejects, right? Well you're wrong," he sang.

"I've seen her with my own two eyes-"

"You've seen her body. Her soul ain't there."

"Willow said she could feel her..."

"You're very right. You're also very wrong. You see, Buffy's soul has been split into two. What Willow can feel is the slayer half of her soul. The other half – that less appealing, girl half – is trapped somewhere else."

"Where?"

"Behind a door."

"Yeah, 'cause that makes sense."

"I speak only the truth, kiddo. She's stuck behind a door, and you're gonna need to open it to get her out so that the two parts of her soul can put themselves back together."

"Why don't you open it?"

"If it were that simple, don'tcha think I'dve done it already?"

Sam's nostrils flared. He was not thinking about this! He wasn't! Because saving Buffy couldn't be that simple. And this was the demon that killed his mom and his girlfriend. Why would he want to help him now, when he'd done nothing so far but ruin his life, over and over again? But...this was Buffy. He owed it to her to at least ask, right? "Would it really save her?"

Azazel smiled. So maybe it would just save her soul, and not her life, but that wasn't what he'd asked. "Yes."

"I don't believe this. Why would you want me to help her?"

"I already told you. I'm fond of her. But if you were to do this, then you tell no one. And by no one, I mean no one. Not even that annoying brother of yours. You do, and the deal's off. Buffy's dead. And I'm the only thing keeping her alive right now. If I break the spell, she dies and her soul is stuck behind the door."

"What else is behind the door?"

"Can't tell you that, Sam, it's not part of the deal."

"Even if I didn't tell anyone, they'd know where I was going. Willow-"

"Come on, boyo, don't let the side down! You know this."

"We could never find Buffy...you were the one cloaking her."

"And I can do the same for you, too."

Okay, so it was most probably a trap. The demon was probably lying to him. Sam was probably not going to get out of this in one piece. But if he saved her... "What do I have to do?"

When Sam woke up, it was with a heavy feeling in his heart.


	44. Chapter 44

All Hell Breaks Loose

AN – This chapter is inspired by the Supernatural episodes All Hell Breaks Loose Part 1 and 2

All Hell Breaks Loose

He couldn't do it.

But he had to.

But it was a trap, it had to be a trap.

But if it saved Buffy...

And in saving Buffy, he'd be saving Dean, too, Sam realized. And the slayers, and her friends, and Faith...

He'd probably never get to see Faith again. Or his brother or his father. That kinda sucked major ass.

He had to do it. He was resolved. He had to do what the demon wanted. Because they still needed her. They still needed Buffy, more than anyone had realized.

So Sam spent the entire day – because there was no way he'd be able to manage to sneak away during the day with everyone on constant Sam watch – researching. He came up with zilch. He was walking into a big glaring trap, and he couldn't even come up with any information to help him.

Knowing that he was probably going to die, Sam waited until everyone had fallen asleep that night, before stuffing his belongings carelessly into a duffel and slipping the colt – which he'd borrowed with the pretence of wanting to research it some more because, Azazel had told him to bring it along – into his holster, and walked right out the door without once looking back.

Dean was a coward.

Dean was a stupid, snivelling little coward who hadn't been to see Buffy once since the night she'd been brought into the school.

Dean was a stupid, snivelling little coward who hadn't been to see Buffy once since the night she'd been brought into the school because he couldn't bear to see the woman he loved so lifeless. Dying, because he'd put her there.

But Faith had caught on to his cowardly ways and kicked him in the ass – literally, actually – and told him that if he was going to pull that stupid 'pity me' face all the time, then the least he could do was to sit by Buffy's bedside as he did it.

Made a bit of sense, really.

In a softer voice, she'd reminded him that he needed to spend time with her now. While he still could.

After that, he couldn't get there quick enough.

So there he sat by Buffy's bed, feeling as though there was something dark and sinister gnawing away at his insides.

Slowly, he reached out to touch her still hand. He pulled back quickly when he was just an inch away. He really was a fucking coward.

"Um," he said awkwardly. He shook his head at himself. He was such a stupid idiot. "I guess I wanted to tell you how sorry I am. Sorry that I haven't been here. Sorry that I put you here." He squeezed his eyes shut tight and took a shaking breath. "I'm so sorry I did this to you. I'm sorry that I couldn't save you. I thought that I could, but I...I just...I failed. And I want you to know that if there was anything, anything, I could do to save you, I'd do it in a heartbeat. Baby, I'd go to the end of the world to bring you back. I'd...I'd die."

If Dean had thought just for one crazy moment that his heart wrenching speech might have gotten though to her and woken her up, he was very wrong.

God dammit! Dean should have known there was something wrong with Sam. He'd been hunched over his lap top for the entirety of the day before, and had grunted out a non-committal response whenever anyone had tried to talk to him. But Dean had been too consumed with his own issues to even bother to realize that something was up. He was such a jackass!

He should have paid more attention earlier that morning when he woke up to find Sam gone, but he'd just stupidly assumed that he'd gone to the school with someone else.

He should've known!

Because now it was late afternoon and no one had seen him all day. Sam was gone, and so was the colt.

"I can't pin point his location," Willow informed them fretfully.

Dean's nostrils flared. "Don't you tell me that means what I think it means!" He couldn't lose Sam too.

"No. No! He's not...It's not that. If by that you mean...dead. It's like with Buffy. He's being cloaked somehow."

"Cloaked by who?"

"If I had to take a guess, I'd say by the same thing that cloaked Buffy. It feels the same."

"The demon?" John growled.

"That's what I'm thinking."

Dean swore loudly. "You think that Sam went to the demon? That he turned? No way! He wouldn't do that!"

Giles quickly shook his head. "No, we aren't saying anything like that. None of us know what has happened as of yet."

"Whatever's happened, we need to find him," John expressed. "Fast."

Searching through the few meagre belongings that Sam had left behind did no good. There was nothing at all to indicate where and why he'd gone.

It wasn't until Bobby returned – he'd left a day ago after hushed whispers with John – with a man in tow that they finally caught a break.

"Who's that?" Faith demanded grumpily, pausing sharpening an axe for a moment to stare.

"This is an old friend of mine, of ours," Bobby indicated to John. "Name's Ash. He's been looking into a few things for us."

John strode over to shake his hand. "It's good to see you again. Tell me you've got something that's gonna help me find my boy."

Ash nodded. "Oh yeah, I found something all right. And it is good!" He fished a map out of his jacket pocket and after pushing a stack of books off of the table – ignoring Giles' protests – he spread the map out."

Dean looked down. "Wyoming?"

Rolling his eyes, Ash prodded the map harshly. "Wyoming with x's drawn on!" He said it like it explained everything. When they jut continued to watch him, clueless, he heaved a long suffering sigh. "Do you people know anything at all about history?" He pointed at each of the x's. "These are all drawn on churches, built one hundred miles apart. Churches built by none other than Samuel Colt."

"The same Samuel Colt that made the demon killing gun?"

"The one and only." He snatched up the pen resting behind Faith's ear, and began drawing lines on the map, from x to x. "Not only did Samuel Colt build the churches, he built railway tracks going from church to church. Which happened to be laid out like...this." He pulled back, revealing the shape of a pentagram.

"A devil's trap..." Dean breathed.

"Hell, yeah."

John pulled the map towards himself excitedly. "A railway track is made out of iron...it's perfect! Jesus, I've never seen anything so elaborate before, anything on such a large scale!"

"But why bother?" Faith piped up. "Why would he even need to create something like that? What's in there that's so important? What's he tryna protect?"

Ash raised worried eyebrows. "Or what's he tryna keep from getting in?"

Giles took his turn with the map. "Is there anything in there? Anything special, of note?"

"Not that I've been able to tell. Just an old cowboy cemetery right in the middle."

"But we're okay, right?" Dean asked. "Because whatever's in there, no demon's getting past those iron lines. So it's safe."

His father looked up sharply. "Sam!"

Sam pulled up in his stolen car at the precise spot the demon had instructed. He glanced down at the railway track with a puzzled frown.

"It's so nice to finally meet again in person, after all these long years."

Sam spun quickly around and raised the colt. "You..."

Azazel rolled his eyes and sighed in disappointment. "I sure didn't see this one coming."

"Maybe you should have looked harder."

"Didn't need to. You know the deal, kiddo. I die, Buffy dies."

Sam ground his teeth. He had no choice but to lower his gun. "Why the hell would you tell me to bring this anyway? I'm not handing it over if that's what you're after."

"Never asked you to. Besides, you're gonna need it."

"For what?"

"To open that door we talked about. Which is about fifty miles," He pointed somewhere behind Sam. "thataway. Keep going and you'll find a cemetery. When you get there you'll find a crypt – you'll know the one I'm talking about when you see it. When you get there, you use the gun to open the door."

"If it's that easy, why don't you just go do it yourself. Let's not pretend you couldn't get this gun off of me if you really wanted to."

"Because I just can't."

God, he wanted to shoot him in his stupid cryptic face. "Fine," he uttered. "What happens when I open the door?"

"You save Buffy's soul. Set it free. Like a butterfly."

"I'm not stupid. What else happens?"

"That's not part of the deal, Sam."

Dean clenched and unclenched his fists, and then glanced at his watch for the hundred and eleventh time. He wished he was driving. "We're not gonna get there on time," he stated.

John's hands on the steering wheel whitened as he gripped his harder. He didn't reply, but his face was grim.

Sam entered the cemetery and crossed it swiftly. The demon had been right, the crypt was easy to find. He took out the colt and gripped it tightly. "I'm coming, Buffy." And then he stuck the gun in the hole.

"Sam, no! Don't!" But it was too late.

He turned to see his brother sprinting in his direction, followed by his dad and Bobby and Willow. "Dean! What are you doing here?" He shook his head. "Later, okay? I'm doing this for Buffy, it's the only way to save her!"

Dean's eyes widened as he stopped by Sam. They flickered from his brother to the colt, wedged in the centre of the door which had just stopped spinning. "No, Sam, this is all wrong!" He yanked the colt out.

John grabbed the both of them and began to pull away. "Boys, we need to get back, now!"

"Why?" Dean demanded. "What's going on? What is that thing?"

"It's a devil's gate!" Bobby yelled, pulling them down behind a cluster of gravestones.

Sam was shaking almost as much as the crypt door. "A what?"

"A hellmouth," Willow explained. "And it's about to explode." And then she leaped up and ran towards it.

Dean grabbed for her but missed. "Willow!"

She turned back, her eyes dark with magic. "Stay back," she warned, and her voice was so fierce that none of them argued. And then her hands were in the air and blue bolts of electricity were sparking around them just in time for the devil's gate to burst open, spewing out an army of black, smokey demons. But most of them were held back, shoved back inside the gate by the magical barrier Willow had created. "Close the door!" she screamed. "Do it quickly!"

The four of them leapt up from their hiding places and pushed at the doors, trying to force them closed.

"Where's Faith?" Sam called out over the rush of demon's, thinking they could really use her strength right about then.

"None of the slayers could get through the tracks!" Bobby explained loudly, a muscle ticking in his neck from the strain of pushing.

"What?"

"The railway tracks are actually a giant devil's trap. We'll explain later if we don't die!" Dean barked. "It's so damned strong that even the slayer's couldn't get through!"

Despite giving it everything she had, a handful of demons managed to get around Willow's barriers and escape. Enough demons to break the railway tracks.

Smiling evilly, Azazel stepped in. it was a ceremonial kind of gesture, because in a blink, he was gone.

A second later he reappeared, right where all the action was going down.

When the devil's trap ceased to be, Faith and the other slayers felt it. Like an icy tingle in their spine, slowly sliding away.

The case was proven when Faith but a hand up against the barrier keeping them out, only to find nothing in her way. "It's down!" she yelled out to the rest of the girls. "The track must have broken! Come on, we need to hurry!"

"The cemetery is fifty miles away," Rona pointed out. "By the time we get there, it'll all be over. One way or another."

Faith's nostrils flared. "Then we go quicker."

Dean sensed the son of a bitch as soon as he appeared. Without a word to the others, he abandoned his task of getting the doors shut and stalked over to where the demon was standing. He didn't even have a chance to aim the colt at him before Azazel was flicking him away, his body one way and the colt another. He groaned as his head hit a gravestone.

John watched this, terror rising in his stomach for his son. He turned to Sam. "Don't you leave this spot 'till these doors are closed!" he shouted. "You hear me?"

"Dad-"

"Promise me!"

Sam nodded, and John ran for the demon. He lifted hid gun, even knowing it was useless. But Azazel was looking like he was headed in Willow's direction and he was pretty sure she didn't have enough energy to fight him off and keep all the demons of hell from getting lose so he shot him in the chest anyway.

The demon paused in his pursuit and turned to face him. He looked down at the bullet sized hole in his shirt and rolled his eyes. "Howdy, dad." And then he flicked him away and against a tree right near where the colt had landed, just as easily as he had done Dean. John's body was pinned back against the tree, and he eyed the colt in desperation. Azazel chuckled. "Ah, to be so, so close, and yet so impossibly far. Now let me ask you, is this the day you've been dreaming of all these years? Is this the moment you went over in your head again and again, every night since I killed your wife?"

"Something...like...it..." John hissed out furiously.

Azazel cocked his head. "Look at your boys John."

Whether by his own choice or not, John did as he was told. He looked from Dean, struggling against invisible bonds with a worryingly bloody gash on his head, to Sam, still struggling with Bobby to close the doors to hell.

The demon stepped closer to him and lowered his voice. "I want you to know that after I've stripped the flesh of your worthless, mangy body, I'm gonna go ahead and kill your boy Dean, too. Slowly, painfully. But not Sam. I have special plans for him."

John's face went white, but he didn't say a word. Instead, he focussed all of his energy on his foot. If he could just move his foot a couple of inches, he could kick the colt towards Dean and they might have a chance at ganking this son of a bitch. He could distract him while Dean got the shot in. And if John died whilst doing it...then that was just the way it had to be.

Just a couple of inches.

"Say bye bye, Johnny boy..."

But before Azazel could so much as blink, a bright, white cloud pushed its way through the haze of black demon smoke, and burst right past Willow's shields. It shot straight towards the demon, and knocked him right out of the body he was wearing. The white cloud and black smoke swirled together in battle for just a short moment.

But that moment was all John needed. He felt his body relax from its bonds, and his foot shot forwards, kicking the colt in Dean's direction.

And then the black smoke broke free of the white cloud's hold, and it poured back into the body.

The white cloud shimmered for a moment, as if losing it's power, and then it disappeared, but not before John caught a flash of blonde hair. "Mary..." he gasped.

Back in form, Azazel stood up, cricking his neck from side to side. "That was annoying. I do hate when pets get out of control. Now, where were we?"

"You were wasting time talking when you should have been killing me," John declared with a short smile.

"Oh, is that right?"

"Yes." But John wasn't talking to the demon any more. He looked over Azazel's shoulder. "Do it."

Azazel span around just in time to see a forgotten about Dean pull the trigger of the colt. The bullet landed squarely between his eyes.

Azazel must have been using some of his own power to keep the devil's gate open, because the moment he died, Sam and Bobby found it a whole lot easier to get the doors shut.

Willow let out a cry of relief and collapsed on the floor in sheer exhaustion. Bobby rushed over to help her, and Sam moved cautiously over to his father and Dean, who were staring down at the demon's body in disbelief.

"You killed him," Sam said in awe. "After all this time..."

Dean nodded, speechless for once.

John looked between the two of them, a million words bubbling up inside of him. A million ways of telling them how proud he was of both of them, how glad he was that they were still alive, still together. But words could wait until later, when the reality of the night had sunk in. Instead, he clapped a hand on each other their shoulders and pulled them close. And then they knew anyway.

Sam pulled away and shook his head. "I'm sorry. I knew this was a trap, but I had to do it."

"What exactly were you trying to do?" Dean wanted to know.

"The demon told me I could save Buffy."

Dean died a little inside. "And you believed him?"

"I was desperate! Everything is...I just wanted to make things better. I wanted to get her back."

"I know." Dean closed his eyes. They'd have to talk about this eventually, but he just couldn't right now. Later.

Sensing this, Sam asked instead, "What happened? How did you..." He gestured towards the body. "I mean...wow."

"I honestly don't know." Dean still felt bewildered by the whole thing. "I was sure we were toast there for a while. The demon had up pinned and he was just about to kill dad and then this...this white cloud of something...like a demon but...not...I mean, what the hell? Seriously."

John cleared his throat. "Son, I think that was Buffy."

Sam nodded like this made perfect sense to him, but Dean didn't understand. "What?"

"I thought it was Mary at first, but I was wrong. It had to be Buffy," John explained.

"But Buffy isn't in hell. She's at the school-"

"But not her soul," Sam interrupted. At Dean and John's puzzled looks, he quickly explained everything the demon had told him.

At that point, Bobby ambled over, carrying an unconscious Willow in his arms.

"Is she okay?" Sam asked him.

Bobby nodded. "She just passed out, is all. Her heartbeat's fine and her breathing's even, so I reckon she'll be right as rain as soon as she's rested up for a couple of days. She must be exhausted. That was some serious mojo she had going on back there."

"She saved our asses," John agreed. "And managed to stop a whole boat load of demons from escaping in the process. Girl deserves a medal."

Bobby eyed the demon on the floor. "Congratulations," he said gruffly.

"Feels kind of unreal right now," Dean spoke up for the three of them.

"And your girl...she'll be at peace now, right? That's a good thing."

Dean couldn't answer. He wouldn't answer. Because Buffy was at peace now because she was dead. That didn't seem like so much of a good thing to him.

Eventually, the five of them made it over to where they had parked the cars, just in time to greet an army of approaching slayers.

"Sam!" called out a relieved voice.

He turned and was instantly enveloped by a warm body and a tight set of arms. Sam was so surprised by Faith's unusual display of emotion that he could do nothing but pat her on the back and stick his nose into her hair and inhale deeply.

After a moment, she pulled away awkwardly, making sure to avoid the eyes of all the girls watching her. "I thought you were dead or somethin'. Or evil. Wait, you're not evil, are ya?"

"No, I'm not evil."

"Well that's a relief." She finally took in the rest of the worn out group. "Did we miss all the action. It kinda looks like we missed all the action."

"Yeah, it's all over."

"Damn! And you killed the demon?"

"Yeah, Dean got him."

"Double damn! I seriously wanted to beat on that punk ass!" Suddenly, her face fell, paled. "But if the demon's dead, then that means that Buffy..."

"Yeah, just...yeah."

Dean had been silent for the first hour of the car ride. They'd all been silent. But Dean...more so.

"I'm sorry," Sam repeated, finally breaking the quiet. "I never should've-"

Dean shook his head. "You thought you were doing the right thing. Don't be sorry for that. And we got the demon thanks to you, so..."

Silence reigned for the rest of the journey.

Giles and Xander and Andrew had remained back at the school with they very young slayers, and the three men were stood waiting in the main hall when the large group returned. All three wore white, odd expressions on their faces.

"I take it you killed the demon?" said Giles, after clearing his throat several times.

None of them felt the need to point out that they wouldn't have made it back otherwise.

"Yeah," was all Faith said. Her eyes were red rimmed.

Xander swallowed audibly and then looked over at Dean. "So, uh...do you want to see Buffy?"

Dean stepped back and let out a choked sound. So far he'd managed not to lose control, because he wanted to make sure he was good and alone before he cried every last drop of liquid out of his body before drinking his entire weight in whiskey. "I can't...I just can't, okay? I can't see her body 'one last time'. I don't want to say goodbye! I..." He threw up his hands in defeat, before turning to leave the school.

A door opened behind him, but he didn't stop. Not until he heard the voice. Her voice. "Maybe you don't have to say goodbye..."


	45. Chapter 45

When Azazel Died...

When Azazel Died...

Xander swallowed audibly and then looked over at Dean. "So, uh...do you want to see Buffy?"

Dean stepped back and let out a choked sound. So far he'd managed not to lose control, because he wanted to make sure he was good and alone before he cried every last drop of liquid out of his body before drinking his entire weight in whiskey. "I can't...I just can't, okay? I can't see her body 'one last time'. I don't want to say goodbye! I..." He threw up his hands in defeat, before turning to leave the school.

A door opened behind him, but he didn't stop. Not until he heard the voice. Her voice. "Maybe you don't have to say goodbye..."

There was barely a hand in the room that didn't automatically shift towards a weapon, and the tension in the room thickened, so much so that Dean was sure he could taste it in the air. Slowly, his heart racing a million miles an hour, he turned around.

Buffy.

A non-dead, actually very much alive looking Buffy. She was stood in one of the side doorways, holding hands with a very shaken looking Dawn.

"It's Buffy," Dawn said encouragingly to the room, although it was kind of obvious. "She didn't d...it's Buffy."

Buffy raised an awkward hand. "Hey," she said softly.

There was a long, stilted silence.

"What the hell?" Faith exclaimed finally. "I thought she...You were...If she's alive then she's not dead! Why did you people tell me she was going to be dead if she's not? I've been mourning! Is this some kind of trick? Is it a joke? Because it's not fuckin' funny!"

Buffy shrank back into Dawn at the fury in Faith's voice.

"It isn't a trick," Giles answered her quietly. He was looking pretty overwhelmed by everything himself. "This really is Buffy. Our Buffy."

"Is she evil?" Kennedy wanted to know. There were nods and murmurs around the room. She wasn't the only one who wanted to know.

Andrew stepped forwards and shook his head. "We did a whole bunch of spells on her. Everything we could think of. And she touched a cross and Xander threw holy water on her which made her kinda mad, but not evil mad, just scoldy mad. Which was just like old Buffy. She's not evil."

And then no one quite knew what to say, until Sam rushed forwards and swept her up into his arms. The damn broke, and the girls all stepped forwards to welcome her back, hug her, just touch her.

But others were wary. Faith, mainly. And Dean. Especially Dean. There was something inside of him he couldn't identify, and he wasn't sure he liked it. Fear, that's what it was. Pure and simple fear.

"How is this even possible?" Sam wanted to know. He gripped a hold of her shoulders and squeezed, not even bothering to hide the tears in his eyes. "We thought that once we'd killed the demon you'd pass on. The spell binding you to him would be broken and...you know?"

"It is broken," Buffy replied. "When Azazel died I was set free. And I'm not exactly sure about all the details, but the last thing he ever said to me was 'don't die'. I guess he meant it."

Sam's eyes widened. "He told me he was fond of you. I thought he was just messing with my head, but...he saved you."

"Maybe." She shivered visibly. "I can't think about that right now. There's...there's stuff I have to deal with. But right now I just want to concentrate on the fact that I'm alive and awake, and not some demon's bitch."

He nodded, and they both looked to Bobby as they heard Willow shift in his arms. Her eyes fluttered as she slowly woke, and Kennedy gently helped her down. She glanced over at Buffy, no surprise in her eyes. "I knew I felt you break past my barriers, I knew it. And I knew you'd find your way back home to us."

Buffy stepped forwards and they met in a warm hug.

"Thank you," Buffy breathed. "I don't know how to..."

"You don't have to. I'm just glad you're here."

"So..." a young slayer named Naomi started as she gawped at Buffy. "Does this mean the demon ain't in her no more?"

Willow shook her head as she released Buffy. "The demon will always be in there, just like it'll be in all of you. If it wasn't, then you wouldn't be slayers. But now that the spirit quartz is really gone, the demon part will never be able to take over again. And nothing will be able to control it. But just to be sure, I'll come up with a nifty little charm for all of you." Her knees buckled, and she grabbed onto Kennedy for support. "Uh...after I've rested up a little."

Faith moved through the crowd to stand in front of Buffy. "It's really you?"

Buffy smiled hopefully. "It's really me," she confirmed.

Faith threw her arms around her. "I missed you," she said into her ear with a sniff.. "I mean...uh, we missed you."

"Yeah, 'cause you're too cool."

"I'm cooler than you are. And I looked way hotter after my coma than you do."

"Yeah, but I woke up quicker. I clearly win."

"Hey, if we weren't all feeling sorry for you and stuff, I'd show you who the winner is right now."

Buffy smiled. "You're pretty awesome, you know that?"

"No shit."

They pulled apart, and Buffy looked over at Dean – the only person who hadn't yet stepped forwards – hopefully. "Dean, I-"

"Don't," he warned, holding up his hands. "Just don't." He back up, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, I just...I just can't." And then he turned and left the building.

Buffy's face fell, and she looked down at the ground to hide the red blotches she was sure were forming. She felt a hand squeeze her shoulder, and she looked up into eyes similar to Sam's. John, she vaguely remembered from...well, she vaguely remembered.

"Don't worry, kiddo, he'll come around. He just needs a bit of time to wrap his head around it all. He's stubborn as hell."

Sam rolled his eyes and smiled at his father. "Yeah, we don't know where he gets it from."

And then the doors were banging open and Dean was storming back in, a determined scowl on his face. Without a word, he pushed his way through the crowd until he reached Buffy. With a small sound of defeat, he grabbed her face between his hands and kissed her, hard and possessively. After a long moment, he pulled away and rested his forehead against hers. "I changed my mind," he told her hotly. "I can. I definitely can."

"You still want me? After-"

"I'll always want you," he interrupted, and kissed her again. "Every little part of you." And again. "And I fully intend to," And again. "marry you." And again. "And have babies with you." And again. "And buy a stupid puppy with you." And again. "You said I'm your cookie. Well honey, you're my apple pie." And then he kissed her some more, and didn't stop.

He kissed her until after those around them had stopped wondering why he was talking about deserts. Until after his family had coughed awkwardly and edged away. Until after Dawn and Faith had stopped smiling happily and rolled their eyes, muttering 'get a room' as they left to go get some much needed sleep. Until after even Andrew got bored and left them to it.

And then he kissed her some more after that.

It wasn't going to be easy, this road ahead of them. There wasn't a single person who hadn't been left scarred, who didn't have issues to work out. Some seriously daunting issues. It would take time. But in the end, they'd do it.

They'd make it.


	46. Chapter 46

Epilogue

AN – Fusion Pink and Russian Red are both lipstick colours from the MAC collection. In case you were wondering.  
Sooo...epilogue! After almost two years, we're finally at the epilogue! So much has happened since I started this story – falling pregnant, moving house (twice), giving birth amongst it all – and this story has been there the whole way through (the way I'm talking would make you think this story is a real live person). I'm so, so sad to say goodbye to it after all this time, but I'm really looking forwards to working on other stuff. Thank you so much to every one who has read and reviewed, the support I've received has meant all the world to me. And an extra special thank you to the wonderful sarbear, who created some beautiful images which really inspired me to continue writing.  
Sooo...epilogue!

Epilogue

4 YEARS LATER

Faith sat in front of the vanity mirror in Buffy and Dean's bedroom and glanced down at the tube of lipstick in her hand. She turned her up her lip and placed it down. "It's pink," she pointed out.

"Actually, it's Fusion Pink."

"I'm not wearing it."

Buffy stopped folding clothes on her bed to cross her arms and glare. "Why not?"

"Because I'm not a freakin' barbie doll like you."

"Fine." Buffy rolled her eyes. "Go for the Russian Red. It matches your dress anyway."

Faith did as she was told and blew a kiss towards her reflection before standing up. "Look, about the dress-"

"You look totally hot in it. No, you look beautiful."

"I don't think it's really me."

"It's tight and it's red. It's definitely you."

"But it's a dress." She tugged at the materiel self-consciously. "Do you really think he'll like it?"

Buffy pressed her lips together tightly to repress a smile. Nervous Faith was surprisingly cute. "He's gonna love it. I bet he even stammers."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. And there'll definitely be blushing."

Faith smiled and wrung her hands. "This is so dumb. I don't even know why I'm acting like this. It's just a stupid date."

"It's a first date. Everyone gets a little panicky on their first dates. It's a given."

"Did you get nervous on your first date with Dean?"

Buffy cocked her head to the side and thought about it for a moment. "Well, by the time we went on our first, official date, we'd already had sex like a billion times, and I'd gone all evil and tried to kill him and his family. So no, not really. Also, he took me to a burger bar. Actually, that's when he asked me to marry him, so yeah, I guess I got nervous."

"Okay, totally not the same thing."

Dean walked in to the room, halting any further conversation. He was carrying a giggling two year old boy over one of his shoulders. "Hey," he greeted. "I found a little monster for Mommy to slay."

"No monster!" the boy squealed between peals of laughter. "No monster!"

Dean chuckled, and threw himself and the boy onto the bed.

Buffy scowled as the pile of clothes she had folded earlier toppled off of the bed and tumbled to the floor. "Honey," she said. "tell Faith she looks beautiful."

"You look beautiful, Faith," Dean obliged, fully sincere.

"What do you think, Alex?" Faith asked the boy sitting on Dean's lap. She twirled around and held out her arms.

"Booful," Alex confirmed seriously.

"Okay, champ, time to say nighty night to Mommy and Aunt Faith," Dean told him.

Alex reached his arms out to Buffy, and she swung him up into her arms and peppered his face with kisses. "Goodnight, baby."

"Night night, Momma."

Faith took him from Buffy and lifted him into the air, before bringing him back down for a kiss.

"Hey kid, don't go messing Aunt Faith up when she worked so hard to look all pretty," Dean warned him teasingly.

"'Kay, Papa." Alex nuzzled into Faith's hair, tiredly.

Dean growled. "What did we say about calling me papa?"

"Don't renember."

"We said that it makes me sound old. Dad is much more cool." He turned to Buffy and narrowed his eyes. "You've been telling him to call me papa again, haven't you?"

She said nothing in reply, but sent him a devilish smirk.

He stood and stalked over to where she was standing and grabbed her by the waist. "I'll make sure you pay for that later," he promised into her ear in a low voice, before leaning down to kiss her.

Faith rolled her eyes. "That's just gross." She looked down at Alex, still in her arms. "Ain't it?"

"Yucky," he agreed.

"Damn straight, little dude."

Dean and Buffy pulled apart, smiling. "Okay, it's time little monsters were in bed."

The doorbell rang just as Dean was walking down the stairs in the house he and Buffy owned after putting Alex to bed.

He pulled the door open, and smirked widely. "Well, aren't you just a handsome devil."

Sam looked down at his posh suit and shrugged bashfully. "Is it okay?"

"Yeah, I'm not gonna talk fashion with you."

"Jerk." Sam shuffled into the house, looking awkward. "Is uh...Is Faith ready yet?"

Dean slapped him on the back and guffawed. "Aw, you're just as nervous as she is. Lame."

It had taken Sam and Faith some time to finally get their acts together.

With Azazel finally dead, Sam finally had the closure he needed to take a step back and really come to terms with Jess' death. He'd finally been able to mourn properly.

And Faith had asked Willow to look up Noah's location. She'd gone to him, and been with him when he died. It had taken her a long time to get past his death.

And now here they were, finally at a place where Sam could ask her out. No guilt, no regrets.

A noise at the top of the stairs caused both men to look up. Sam's mouth opened and closed as he watched Faith walk down, and he barely even noticed Buffy following behind her. He stepped forwards. "You look...you look pretty. Uh...beautiful, I mean."

She looked down at the ground. "Thanks."

Buffy and Dean exchanged amused glances, and Dean mouthed 'Awkward'. Buffy had to stifle a laugh.

"We should go," Sam suggested, after a moment of avoiding looking at each other.

Faith nodded and turned to Dean and Buffy. "See you guys."

After the door had closed firmly behind them, Sam and Faith ambled down the garden pathway, at least a foot in between them. Both tried to act cool and casual, but failed. Miserably.

When they reached the garden gate, Faith stopped walking and sighed. "This is awkward, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Too awkward?"

"A bit."

"I don't know why. I'm sorry."

"I guess maybe because we've known each other for such a long time. Maybe it's a sign that we should just leave things the way they are."

"Maybe." Sam pondered this for a moment. And then he swooped down and kissed her. "Or maybe we should just stop being awkward idiots and go on our date."

Kissage. Now that was something Faith was comfortable with. She grabbed him by the butt and pulled him closer. "I like the way you think, big guy."

Dean stopped peering through the peeping hole in the front door and turned to Buffy. "They've gone," he informed her. "Finally."

She grinned and walked into the kitchen. "Don't be grumpy," she threw over her shoulder at him. "I think they're cute."

"I think you're cute," he told her charmingly, coming up behind her and trapping her in his arms. He nuzzled at her neck and his hand crept under her shirt. "Let's do naughty stuff up against the kitchen counter."

She spun around in his hold and rubbed her hands over his shoulders. "Your dad will be here in ten minutes."

"Baby, I could get you off at least twice in that amount of time."

"It was promises like that which led to Alex."

He walked her back until her butt hit the counter. "I bet I could convince you."

"Dean-"

He cut her off with a kiss, and smirked when she responded just as eagerly as she always did. When she deepened the kiss, he moaned happily into her mouth and lifted her up onto the counter.

It was just as he was gripping her thighs to wrap her legs around his waist when the doorbell rang for the second time that evening. He cursed, and reluctantly let her down.

Trying to straighten out the hair that had been thoroughly messed up by Dean's eager fingers, Buffy moved to answer the door.

"Hey," John said sheepishly, as he entered the house. "Sorry I'm early. I wanted to get here before Alex fell asleep."

Dean came in from the kitchen to greet his father. "He's upstairs in bed, but he's still awake. He wouldn't go to sleep until Grandpoppy came to tuck him in."

John chuckled. "Well then I guess duty calls..." He headed over towards the stairs.

"Thanks for babysitting tonight," Buffy called as she picked up the bag of weapons she had left by the front door earlier.

"Happy to do it," he replied, already half way up the stairs. "Just make sure you get that demon before it rips out the intestines of any more young girls."

Dean and Buffy looked down at the dead intestine eating demon, matching pouts on their faces.

"Well, that was easy," Dean observed.

Buffy pulled out the axe wedged into the demon's head. "Too easy. I wanted to fight more. Stupid demon."

"So what do we do now?"

They glanced at each other and smirked.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, fuck, fuck! Fuck! Fuckfuckfuckfuck!"

Dean came straight after Buffy and then collapsed, still half on top of her. He panted, working hard to get his breath back. "Sweet merciful Jesus, woman."

She sighed contentedly and smirked over at him. "See? I told you getting a motel room was a good idea. There was no way we could have done that in the park."

"We totally could have. It just would have been messy."

"And we probably would have gotten ourselves arrested."

She giggled, and Dean looked over at her and smiled. "I love you. So freakin' much."

"I love you, too. Always."

"You and me, baby, we got a real kind of something." He grinned, and pulled her on top of him. "I think it's about time we started on baby Winchester number two. Don't you?"


End file.
